The First Maiar: A Slayer's Tale, by Buffy Summers
by BL4CK B377Y
Summary: The War of Wrath destroyed her soul. A troublesome exchange protected it. The blood of a key returned it home, but what will it take, now, to save it?
1. Beginning at the End

**_(Author's Note:_**_ I ask you all to disregard any preconceived notions you envision when it comes to Buffy, her past, and her future. Doing that will make it easier to accept the future I am mapping out. The future you know Buffy to have is nowhere near the future she will have in this story. Just think of this as being EXTREMELY alternate Universe...)_

_**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT lay claims to anything in this story. Though some names, characters and plot/story lines have been made up or changed, this story has been loosely based off of Buffy the Vampire Slayer the Movie and television series. I lay no claims to any thing pertaining to either movie or show. Same applies to any reference to Tolkien's Middle-Earth.**_

**The First of the Maiar: A Slayer's Tale, by Buffy Summers**

Author: Mary Beth Garrett, aka Black B3tty

**Beginning at the End**

We have all heard the story. Long ago an unspeakable darkness covered the world. Demons roamed free and the threat of the vampires spread more and more with each passing day. All hope for the survival of Mankind rested upon the shoulders of one girl. The Chosen One. The Slayer. She who would be chosen above all others to save the world from evil. She would live, fight, and die for this cause. Where one died, another was born. So would be her fate and she would continue to be born into the world time and again. To stop the massacre... To stop the Vampires... We all know the legend... What we do not know, however, is the fact behind the legend. The reality that turned to myth.

Truth be told, in the earliest years it seemed to never really matter how many times the girl was sent. The eggs remained in Evil's hand basket (sometimes quite literally). No matter how much light she shone in the dark, or how great the destruction she rendered upon evil, it always seemed to possess the higher ground. Now, you may wager how furious this made those omniscient and cognizant beings known as the Powers That Be. And as you and I well know, they hate it when things are not going their way, and will go by any means necessary to get what they want.

But, for the first time, the Powers That Be found themselves to be utterly powerless. You see, they had already used their only lifeline when they created the Slayer. They did not have any other aces up their sleeves. So, what were they to do? Something had to be done or they would lose everything... Their world was dying before it had even had the chance to live. But who do higher beings turn to for help and guidance? Who indeed.

What you may not know is that there is not just one level of Gods. There are in truth seven realms of Higher Beings. The first one is the host of the Almighty of Almighties, the Great Creator of all worlds and universes, the Lord God himself. And then, if you couldn't guess, level seven would be the damned of the damned. The Son of Perdition, Satan, The Dark One, Lucifer, The Devil, etcetera, etcetera. He is known by many names, but in truth, he is the God with the least power. He constantly searches for loop holes and glitches to help stretch his power just that little bit further into the upper realms. For that reason is why he is constantly trying to lure souls to his side. Through their power, his grows. The phrase, "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely" is a philosophy he lives by. For it is his deepest desire to turn those with the greatest power against light and goodness, to aid his effort to overthrow the higher realms. Though his power is weak it is the most seductive of all. For he promises a great many things with a sly tongue and pretty, poisoned words, but never reveals the cost of such glory until it is far too late, and one's spirit far too tainted.

The different planes of Godliness act as filters, each level relaying and answering to the next. The second realm relays to the highest and most pure of all Gods, and the level beneath that relays to them, and so on and so forth it goes. There are rules to follow, laws to obey. Order to be maintained. There are what could be called the good ones, or Gods of Light, and then there are the bad ones, the Gods of Evil, and darkness. All in all they tie in and work together like one great, big, well-oiled machine. They have a job to do, just like you and I. They even go on vacation once in a while (The Dark Ages anyone?).

A balance is constantly striven to be maintained, though at times may favor one side or the other. The balance is determined by what plane rules the world. For instance, a world existing under the rule of the Gods from the second plane would be mostly a world of goodness and light, but the influences of evil would still be present, grasping for a strong hold. Now in a world on the sixth plane, darkness and evil would have highest reign but goodness would linger in the background like a heartbeat... faint, but alive.

Now, one may be wondering where the Powers that Be fall on that scale of one through seven... In truth they are the governing powers over the fourth realm, which happens to be the hardest realm to govern, due to it being right on the borderline between good and evil. Both sides are constantly fighting for domination. It is in this realm where the balance is hardest to maintain.

But balance had to be reached, and soon else the Powers lose their realm and the Darkness gains one more step closer to his goal. So, against all their desires and wishes, and despite their convictions and best efforts the Powers That Be were left with no other choice. So, with pleading and shame in their eyes, they turned to the Gods above them for help. After centuries of pleading with their betters, finally it was Manwë, of the Valar of the second realm who lent them aid.

Deals were made. A bargain was struck, and the Powers were dealt the hand they needed. Not a new one, just a better one. An improvement upon that which they already possessed. They were given the soul of one of the most powerful beings from a world known as Arda. A soul that, at the time, was lost to Arda and had no place in that world.

In order to save his most precious creation, Manwë compromised with the Gods beneath him. For one day, in the distant future, Manwë knew he would need her again. This powerful soul was fused with the soul of the slayer, creating what the Powers would call an "Enlightened Slayer." With this improvement their slayer would now be born with the knowledge that she was far more than any mere prophecy could ever predict, yet she would never know exactly how. They would instill in her the common sense to never reveal her enlightened gifts to others, not even her watcher. She would be born knowing who she was and that her purpose in life was to protect and save the world. The world that would never know her as anything more than a mere slayer (that is, if they even knew she existed at all). But known only to the Powers That Be, she would be their salvation. She would have the knowledge and the power to perhaps not completely stop evil in its tracks, but at least send it cowering away in fear, which would help to restore balance. No normal slayer ever possessed the kind of knowledge that this one did even after being Chosen, and she would know that much and more just at birth!

When this more powerful soul was merged with the soul of the slayer, however, the power it possessed was diffused greatly. This was not unexpected when a soul passed from a higher realm to a lesser one. This Enlightened slayer would still posses an uncanny strength and supernatural healing ability, along with adeptness in any kind of weapon- rudimentary or otherwise- a gift of tongues, great mental strength, and a bounding knowledge and thirst for more. Manwë also promised that, in time, when the soul was ready, she would gain the power of foresight, the gift of eternity, the strength of the world, the light of the heavens, and the force of the wind. So the Powers readily agreed... only learning later that if she ever lived long enough to receive these "powers" it would apparently prove to the Valar, to Manwë, that this soul was no longer needed in their world and would readily be returned. For that reason, the Powers' greatest fear, that of losing their greatest weapon, was why so many barely reached the age of fifteen. Not that there were that many who had a chance, mind you. The contract saw to that. It stated simply that this Enlightened Slayer would not be needed half as often as the normal one (if you can call a slayer normal). Therefore, instead of every century, she would only be born every Millennia or so. Give or take a couple decades.

It was the very first in this new line of Enlightened Slayers (she was technically the fourth in the basic outline of slayers.) who actually retained a spark of enlightenment. It was she who had stayed evil's overbearing hand, and sent it fleeing in terror to slip beneath the shadows and cracks of the world. It was she who had turned the tide in the favor of all that was good. Truly she had displayed much strength and great potential. Yet, even with her great destiny looming near, she could not escape the glorious slayer tradition of dying young. Therefore, at age seventeen, older than any slayer before her, she conceded to fate and the machinations of the Powers at the hands of a Baglamora demon. Needless to say she never attained her true enlightenment, and the Powers were allowed to keep their precious soul.

But I am not here to tell you of the "could-have-beens." No. This story is of **_THE_** One. The one who defied all conceptions about how her life would be. The one who broke all rule, rhyme, and reason. The one who defied the powers and their attempts to keep her from her destiny. She was different. Unique, and not just meaning from normal slayer to enlightened slayer. Though the first slayer she was not, she truly was the first (and last) of her kind.

_To Be Continued in the next chapter... **Deals Were Made to be Broken**_

_******  
**(Please don't be afraid to be honest. Loved it? Liked it? It made you cry out in sheer orgasmic ecstasy? You loathed it with a disgust that cannot be put into words but you'll try to anyway? You developed an acute case of Tennis elbow due to reaching for the Pepto a dozen times?... PLEASE TELL ME! Be mean, be cruel, be harsh, or be sickeningly cheery! I don't care! I just wanna know... Honestly! You're honest of all honest opinions! Thanks so much!  
Cheers!_** =^.^= _)_**


	2. Deals Were Made to be Broken

**_Disclaimers in prologue... Yadda ya!  
_**

**Deals Were Meant to be Broken  
**

The Powers That Be all watched with near glee as the child known as Dawn, The Key's blood dripped onto the gateway that, if opened, would cause the destruction of every dimension in every universe. Their plan had worked. Dawn would jump to her death to stop it. The soul of the key would be lost to one of the many dimensions. It did not matter which, for the key's soul was useless now. The body would be all that mattered. Proof to Buffy that her precious sister had died, and the very thing which would tip the already unstable emotional control over Buffy's will power over the edge and therefore bring about her downfall as well... Locking Buffy's enlightened soul in place yet again.

"That's it little key. You must stop it. Only you can." The beings known as the Powers said all at once, as if chanting a well versed spell.

Through the clouded window in which they watched, Dawn said "I'm sorry!" as a tear streamed down her face.

"Yes!" every one of the powers held their breath and some clenched tightly to their Grecian robes as Dawn ran for the portal... then they all let out said breath and arms shot up in outrage as Buffy's hand reached out to hold her sister back. Their protestations and grunts of disbelief only worsened when they watched as Buffy told her sister a last good bye.

The powers then shouted in outrage at random, breaking their illusion of connected thoughts and hive mind. "No, this cannot be!" "What is going on here?" "This is not right, her soul must stay here!"...

**_"Who is responsible for this?"_**

"I am!" a strong and commanding, yet smooth and silky voice spoke from behind them.

Every one of the Powers turned round and were taken far aback as they saw before them the very one who had given them the enlightened soul in the first place. A being that exuded power and strength far beyond their own. One of the only beings that they were truly frightened of.

"Manwë!" they whispered in reticence, retaking their voice as one.

Then one stepped up while rubbing his hands on his robe to smooth it out, or more likely to wipe the sweat from his palms. At long last he spoke, his voice trembling slightly, but whether in anger or fear one could not tell. I would guess the latter. "What are you doing here? Our business with you was done long ago."

Manwë said nothing and there was silence, but for the soft scuffling of sandals and shifting of robes as the beings parted to let Manwë approach the looking window, which had then focused on Buffy's face as she stared in comprehension over the portal. Manwë brought up his hand as to stroke Buffy's cheek, the look of agony upon her beautiful features nearly bringing him to tears. The lone being spoke up again, his voice cracking with false bravado, "You will answer me, Manwë."

"I do nothing unless by Iluvatar's or **_my_** will. You would do wise to remember that, _Marcus."_ He spoke the god's name with a scathing repulsion, and their very surroundings seemed to flicker as Manwë's voice never rose in volume but the venom underlying it could be heard clearly.

The one addressed as Marcus trembled and bowed slightly, averting his eyes from the penetrating icy blue gaze of the higher being before him. "Then please tell us, what is the will of Manwë, which would bring him to our realm?"

Manwë cocked an aggravated eyebrow, "I am here to fulfill a contract."

With that Marcus' head shot up in surprise, "Contract?" Suddenly the few lower gods still watching the scene through the window gasped in shock. Marcus turned his head to look back at the window just as Buffy swan dived into the portal. He then turned back to Manwë, and realization spread throughout his features. "You mean...?"

"Yes." Manwë cut off the lower god, as his lip curled slightly in amusement at Marcus' slow comprehension. But as quick is it came, the mirth faded from his face entirely and his features grew austere. Crossing his arms over his chest, he spoke firmly, "I am here to reclaim the soul which you have nearly destroyed."

Marcus's voice shook with that ever present fear. Fear as to what Manwë would do if he found out that due to her fatal jump, the soul of the Enlightened had been lost forever. "B-but, it is no longer here. The key was supposed to jump. Not Delaney. Her soul was meant to stay in this world. Now it will forever be lost."

Manwë chuckled slightly, causing Marcus' attention to be drawn to the higher god once again. Manwë spoke condescendingly, "On the contrary. I know exactly where her soul is. I am the one who put it there after all."

Marcus' brow furrowed with confusion and anger, "What do you mean? **_You_** did this?" He indicated the window and Buffy's body now encased in the light from the portal. "You made her jump?"

Manwë's arms uncrossed and his face scrunched as if disgusted by Marcus and his words, "I did nothing of the sort." His arms crossed once more with a gentle smugness, "I merely implanted in her long ago the feeling of not truly belonging, fore she never truly did. Such a though would overwhelm anyone with the need for answers. And it was in search for this belonging, these answers that drove her to leap into that portal and set her soul free to guide home."

Marcus stood there blinking, mouth agape as his mind worked at absorbing what Manwë had just told him. He shook his head fervently and did beseech the higher god with a high pitched voice. "No! You cannot do this! She is ours!" Marcus then angrily grabbed Manwë's arm. "You gave her soul to us!"

Manwë looked at his arm, his face contorting with fury. Without preamble Manwë flung his arm out, sending the lesser god hurtling backwards. He then stepped back as he let his true light show, a blinding mixture of the brightest blues and white, which caused Marcus and every other being with him, to bow in fear and humility. When the light abated Manwë moved to tower over Marcus' hunched figure. With a strong hand he gripped Marcus by the head, and forced his eyes to look up at him. Manwë then spoke through clenched teeth, his words hitting Marcus like bricks, "You hear me and hear me well, Marcus. I would never leave such a precious treasure to beings the likes of you. I never **_gave_** you her soul..." His anger ebbed some and he loosened his skin peeling grip from Marcus' hair. "I merely **_lent_** her to you with every intention of bringing her back!" Manwë pushed Marcus' head down and stood to his full height. "Do you honestly think I would allow one of my best warriors, a part of my own life-force to suffer eternally in your hands?" The question was rhetorical, but Manwë did not leave them pause to even try to answer before he continued, "She was never meant to remain here permanently. She was only ever meant to aid you for as long as you needed her, until I could find some way to bring her back safely."

Marcus was trembling in fear and thanking the gods above him that he did not have such a function as urinating, for he had no doubts that if he had, he most definitely would have pissed himself. Marcus was trembling on his knees, and because of this Manwë hoped that the debacle was over. Marcus clearly could not continue this argument. His stand to the higher god was done. He was broken. Not to mention Manwë was right by all accounts. The soul wasn't really needed in this world anymore. But the Powers That Be were not about to admit that to him. So they thought up another lame excuse, this time voiced by a petite golden haired female. "No! You interfered. The contract stated specifically that she is ours to keep if you interfere!

Manwë's eyes flashed with rage at this new contender and he stepped (more like glided or appeared) right in front of her, his eyes burning holes right through her, "You think I would have gotten involved if such a high price would be paid?" She had obviously not been a Power in this realm for very long for she misjudged Manwë's power and found herself shaking slightly under his gaze. She bowed her head. Manwë stepped back and talked down to her, "You must learn to read the fine lines, newcomer. Interference _would_ have cost me her soul, but only if the first party, namely you, had not interfered to begin with."

"And when exactly have we ever interfered?" the female blatantly denied.

"You have **ALWAYS** interfered!" The very air around Manwë began to tremble and shake as the higher god's once cool and calm composure faded briefly when the floodgate of his wrath opened on the unsuspecting lesser god, causing her to tremble and fall to her knees once again. Soon after, however, Manwë's fury abated and he stepped away from the trembling woman to stand back and address them all. His voice took on its smooth and commanding tone once more, "For tens of thousands of years you have deliberately intercepted and destroyed your precious Enlightened Slayer's chance at attaining that which she was meant for. I knew full well when I signed her soul over to you, what your intentions would be." Manwë's eyes glazed over with tears, yet he kept his strong demeanor. "All for the sake of ownership you have extinguished her light time and time again. Oh, you may have hoped to cleverly shroud it as fate or accident by disguising the deliberate removal of her strength at a fatal moment as mere loss of energy. Or by creating a 'natural' atmosphere giving any demon opposing her, the power to overtake her. But for tens of thousands of years I have watched you do these things, ebbing my fury and impulsive desire to stop you. I have waited, and I have done nothing but bide my time. Well the time of waiting is at an end. I knew that I would bring her home one day, and that day is today, that time is now, and I am taking back what is mine."

"No you cannot do this! We need her!"

The fury threatened again but Manwë closed his eyes and clenched his teeth and fists, fighting it back, "You do not need her! Those you have fighting for you now are more than enough to keep evil at bay. The child has suffered your machinations long enough. She deserves to return to us, to her true home. Besides, you will still have your normal slayer. Who I am sure will be more than able to take on anything thrown her way. She will, after all, maintain the same spirit and fire that she possessed as an Enlightened, only she will not actually be enlightened. Nor will she have any recollection of what she used to be." There was silence. The Powers That Be found themselves for the first time at a loss of both tongue and argument.

Manwë's piercing gaze scanned the group of beings, slowly, unnervingly. They all lowered their heads and shifted uncomfortably under his stare. Sensing their final surrender, Manwë spoke a final time, "Now if you will excuse me, I have a young woman in need of..." the sapphire god lifted a golden brow, " 'Enlightening'." And with that the powerful Manwë turned with a flourish of his robes, and left the beings known as the Powers That Be alone in their stuttering acceptance.

_To Be Continued in the next chapter... **New Gifts, Do Not New Friends, Make**_

_(I know, I know! Short chapter! I'm sorry... but the next one's a doozy I promise... Confused yet? I know I am... :-? lol... well thanks for your patronage... Have I told you that I love constructive criticism? Well I do... 'Til next time!  
Cheers! _=^.^= _)_


	3. New Gifts, Do Not New Friends, Make

**_DISCLAIMER_****_:_**_ I do NOT lay claims to anything in this story. Though some names, characters and plot/story lines have been made up or changed, this story has been loosely based off of Buffy the Vampire Slayer the Movie and television series created by Joss Whedon, and tightly based off of The Lord of the Rings books by J.R.R. Tolkien, or movies Directed by Peter Jackson. I lay no claims *sniffle* to anything pertaining to movies, books, or show. *sniffle... tear*_

**New Gifts Do Not, New Friends Make**

Buffy had come back to awareness with an overwhelming feeling of peace and calm. And for several moments that felt like eternity she kept her eyes closed as prior events came flooding back to her memory. She had jumped into the portal and given her life for her sister, her friends, and the entire universe. She would finally be able to rest. Or so she thought.

But that feeling of peace ended all too quickly with a flash of light, brighter than the Sun itself, being her only warning before her eyes jammed shut in response, reducing the blinding light to a shade of gray. A huge lump formed in Buffy's throat threatening to choke her as her limbs were forcibly pulled to a position that could rival Leonardo DaVinci's Vitruvian Man. She could do nothing but feel as tiny pin pricks seemed to pierce over every millimeter of her body, and her hair felt like it was being ripped out strand by strand. Something was shredding her skin and her internal organs to pieces, trying to rip her heart and her intestines out by way of her throat. Then suddenly just as the pain had come, she was filled with a powerful warm glow, feeling almost as if something were working to heal her from the inside out, patching her back together.

Once that feeling subsided, however, it was only taken over by the sound of fog horns, car horns, and other high pitched screaming and whistling blasting in her ears. Her mouth was almost constantly now opened in a silent scream. She tried to clasp the sides of her head in an attempt to block out the deafening noise, but due to the forced outstretched position, she was incapable of doing so.

After several nauseating moments, the noise had faded to a gentle hum, which then gratefully died down to nothing but a silence that eerily reminded Buffy of the calm right before a storm. She dared peek open one eye, though the act was rather pointless, for all she could see in an endless void was the darkest black of night. Over and over again she wondered what she had done to make the peace and warm fuzzies go away when suddenly, an unnatural warmth like some ill omen began rising in Buffy's stomach. _Ok I didn't mean that kind of warm fuzzy._ Once the sensation had spread throughout every vein in her body, the uncomfortable warmth turned into an unbearable, searing heat. Buffy felt as if she was being burned alive, as if her insides were boiling in their own juices. She screamed but the sound was eaten up in the darkness, and apart from the pain which was consuming her entire being, the only other thought in her mind was the phrase _Please, God! Make it stop!_ Repeating over and over. Then, as if in answer to her pleas, the burning sensation ceased just as Buffy felt as if she were falling. Falling fast, from what she could tell as the wind thrashed violently around her body. The darkness was then alighted with the effulgence of day and Buffy's eyes were forced shut once again. She was surprised with the use of her limbs as she brought her arms to cover her eyes, mere moments before she hit the breaking hard ground, and the air was knocked painfully from her lungs.

For a few moments she laid there, catching her breath, unwilling to move in fear that it would cause even more pain than what she had just gone through. The burning was completely gone she noted with great diligence, and the ringing which once threatened to make her go deaf had diluted to a barely noticeable...

"Chirping?" Buffy's eyes shot wide as she catapulted herself to a sitting position. Once the agonizing head rush subsided, her senses came flooding back in a river of unfamiliar scents and noises commonly heard while camping. Buffy's jaw dropped as she gaped at her surroundings. She found herself to be amidst a grove of the thickest trees she had ever seen. She would have assumed they were Redwoods were it not for the fact that they looked more silver, and clearly not red. On the ground by several of these ginormous trees, grew flowers unlike any Buffy had ever laid her eyes on. They too appeared to be almost silver, and some gold. Buffy's slayer sense of smell threatened to consume her as her nose surged with hundreds of different scents, all unfamiliar to her. That feeling of peace returned with a vengeance and the thought entered Buffy's mind that this was some sort of Heaven. But if this was a heaven what the hell did she just pass through to get here? What the Hell indeed...

She shook off the thought as she gaped at her heavenly beautiful surroundings. Buffy couldn't have described the sights or smells around her, even if someone plopped a dictionary in her lap. Partly because no word could properly describe its beauty, but mostly because Buffy didn't rightly like books. One may wonder where her hatred of books stems from, but in order to find the answer all one has to do is delve into her past. When a certain beloved watcher by the name of Merrick would force her to study philosophy, science, psychology, demonology, and many different languages, along with training for hours on end... By the age of ten, Buffy was not only a master of martial arts, but she was like a mini-Freud, and could fluently speak four different languages. Five, if you counted Aramaic. Now, would she ever admit this knowledge openly to anyone? Hell no! It was more fun when people thought her the ignorant "dumb blonde." Fake hair for a fake façade, she'd always think. Oh, if Giles ever knew that some of the time what he said was wrong, and that Buffy was the one with the knowledge to correct him? He'd probably have a heart attack. She frowned slightly at the thought of Giles, but took in her surroundings once more, which she could now feel were positively humming with light and energy of the good kind. The only word that ushered from her lips was a hushed, "Wow!"

After several awestruck moments, Buffy slowly raised herself to stand. She rose gently and cautiously so she could better sense and feel if anything was damaged of broken, and apart from a bruised backside she was fine. Once firmly on both feet, and convinced that she had not suffered any injuries, she bent over to brush herself off, she **_had_** just been lying on the ground, after all. She reached her hands back to sweep her backside but froze in mid stroke when she missed the feeling of denim and made contact with bare skin. Buffy's eyes widened to saucers and she looked down at herself, gasping at her complete nakedness, and reflexively positioning her hands as best she could to hide her nude form.

"Ok Buffy... this can't be heaven! Because if it was, A; you wouldn't be naked, or at least maybe you wouldn't be aware of it, B; you wouldn't have this massive migraine." She groaned slightly and scrunched her eyebrows together. "And 3..." Buffy briefly glanced up towards the heavens in what she assumed was the direction she fell from, and then continued, "the road here would have probably been a lot less... bumpy." Realization then slammed into Buffy like a semi-truck... The Powers That Be must have yet again denied her what she deserved, in this case her eternal peace, so they ripped her from Heaven and carelessly sent her careening back down to Earth.

The fear in Buffy's throat completely disappeared, only to be replaced by fuming anger. Keeping one hand strategically placed across her chest, Buffy raised the other, shaking her clenched fist violently towards the Heavens. "Damned bastards! You took peace away from me! I deserved that happy place and you know it!" hot, angry tears glistened in her eyes, and she took several shallow breaths. "It's bad enough ya strand me out here in the middle o' God knows where, but did ya have to make me completely naked as well? Honestly! What could this possibly accomplish?" she spat. She paused only to center her anger and prevent it from making her punch a whole in the nearest tree. Still furious, she continued, "Augh! I swear to... **YOU**... if there was a way, **I'd kill you!**" As if expecting a reply, Buffy waited, glaring up at the sky. When nothing happened she grunted in anger and flung both of her arms outward in fury. As an orb of crackling light shot from each of her hands Buffy nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Holy fu-" she cut her self off when she quickly crouched down hiding from the blast. "What the hell was that?!" Buffy asked to no one in particular as she stood up, staring in bafflement at her hands. She leaned over slightly to check the damage to the tree... Just like she'd suspected, she could see right through the base of the tree to the charred and still smoldering trunk of the one behind it. Buffy stared at her hands again, asking them, "Where the hell did that come from?" _So much for not trying to punch a hole in a tree._ She shook her head at herself, then scoffed slightly. "No way could that have come from me..." She turned her hands over several times, then finished the trailing sentence in her mind, _Could it?_

In an attempt to answer her own question and put her mind at ease, Buffy flung her arms out just as she had done it before. Nothing happened. She did it again... Same result. She attempted a final time, flinging her arms wide. This time she focused all thought and sense to the palms of her hands right down to her very fingertips... The trees around her groaned from strain, but Buffy, too focused on trying to produce another light show, paid it no heed. Several moments passed to no avail. Finally, giving up the fruitless attempt, Buffy settled that it was just some freak occurrence and not her doing. She suddenly dropped her arms and the trees beside her creaked hard and swayed as if just released from a tight sling. "You're just being a paranoid, Buffy. Working yourself up for nothing." She shook her head and rolled her eyes at herself. "Just some weird hoodoo, or like horizontal lightning, or something? And you're talking to yourself too... Bad sign..."

The trees still swayed back and forth, but not nearly as hard as they had been a moment ago. The same wind that was blowing through the trees also caused a chill to sweep through Buffy's body, and forced her to address her nudity once more. She crouched and hugged her legs to herself, rubbing both them and her arms in an attempt to create warmth. Buffy noticed then that all sounds of forest life had all but vanished, no doubt due to the light show that had just taken place. But the creepy silence wasn't sitting well with her, not well at all.

"Alright!" Buffy exclaimed, standing suddenly. "This place is officially wigging me out..." She began to turn in a slow circle to examine her surroundings. What she was looking for, she hadn't a clue, but she'd know when she found it. She stopped turning only when she had settled upon a path, or at least what she thought most resembled one. It looked as if no one had trodden it for over a hundred years, but it would do. Resolute in her decision, she stomped off into the thrush.

Buffy mumbled and cursed the Powers, and herself, under her breath as she walked. At times she cursed in whispers. At others she screamed like a grand banshee, using words that would cause even a whole fleet of sailors to flinch. The profanity was especially loud and harsh whenever her foot happened to land on a small twig that was far too tiny to notice. The big sticks and rocks she avoided as if she knew they were coming, but those damned tiny ones were really scratching the hell out of her bare-feet. Needless to say she was quite upset. _Stupid forest paths._ But then, anyone would be in the same circumstance. Some high on themselves powerful beings decided to strand her in the middle of nowhere... _Stupid PTB. _Then add the chilling wind against her naked form and you had a brilliant recipe for quite the cranky Buffy. _Stupid lack of clothing._

Actually, the being naked part she could handle, she was no Prude and certainly had no animosity towards nudity. It was more the lack of a proper weapon, or stake, which caused that _feeling_ of nakedness that wasn't sitting well with her. She could be buck-naked in the middle of a crowded city and not be phased much, as long as she had a good dagger or something, or knew where to find one in a hurry. But out here, in the wilderness, in some crazy silver and gold forrest, she hadn't the slightest where she could find a trusty crossbow, or double edged axe. Sure she had her slayerly strength to rely on, but who knew what she might come up against out here and if that would be enough. She hated that feeling. She was far from defenseless, but at that moment she sure as hell felt like it.

Buffy didn't know how long she'd been picking and prodding her way through the trees and bushes. A few hours maybe? Neither did she know exactly when the birds had returned. They must have come back some time during her ranting, but due to her state of upset, she hadn't rightly paid them any mind. Normally, she would have welcomed back the sounds of nature, but she just couldn't shake the thought that the animals were talking to each other. Granted, animals conversing weren't odd in and of themselves, but that kind of conversation tended to be multiple creatures twittering all at once. Not solely three distinct bird whistles, alternating from three alternate directions. One would call from her left, followed by one to her right, then from behind. For some time now, they had cried and answered each other, back and forth. Just the three... It just... Wasn't right. In fact, an all too familiar feeling had been welling up inside of her for, oh, 20 minutes now, give or take. A feeling that had now grown to an all-sense consuming level that Buffy could no longer ignore. Either her spidey senses had gone completely hay-wire, not likely considering the fact that since she arrived in this place her senses seemed to be heightened a hundred times over, or there was definitely someone, or something, following her.

She had to take action. She couldn't stand idly by and let these three whatever-they-ares get the best of her. She had to break free of their pursuit, and it had to happen fast. But which way would be safest from danger? They alternated frequently, never coming from the same direction. Maybe there were more than three... How could she learn the exact whereabouts of her pursuers without their noticing? Buffy had thought up only one possibility when her foot snagged on an upturned tree root and she took a mighty stumble to the ground. Or so the unknowing voyeur would think. She landed with an _only slightly _overacted "Oomph!" Hey, if she was going down, at least she was going down in style.

As Buffy sat up to nurse her "injured" ankle, uttering the occasional gasp or whimper of pain, she waited patiently. Cradling her foot in her hands, Buffy closed her eyes and focused all of her senses on her surroundings. She waited several minutes like this until finally, her patience paid off. A twittering whistle sounded from her left... Then from her right... But the third call never came... _Where are you, Number Three?_ She adjusted her foot to a more cross-legged position as she focused her senses just a little harder. There it was coming from the distant. Practically inaudible, but she heard it. Very soft footfalls, and a shuffling of leaves coming from what was now her front. From what she could tell, which wasn't much, they were getting closer. _Oh this is so not of the good._ She didn't wait for the third and final whistle. She stood and turned, sprinting headlong into the trees behind her, abandoning the small path she'd been following. The whistling followed with a slightly louder scuffling of feet, but it grew ever distant as she nimbly leaped and wound her way through the dense foliage with incredible speed that even surprised her. When Buffy was sure that her trackers were well enough behind, she stopped and dropped behind a particularly large tree and hid herself well within its hordes of undergrowth.

There she stayed for God knows how long. Minutes that had felt like hours passed before Buffy started hearing the voices. It took her several moments to convince herself that what she was hearing was in fact not in her head. For a while there she did sort of hope that it **was** all in her head, seeing as how the voices were only maybe twenty meters from her current position. Twenty-five tops. She was also finding it hard to believe that those whom the voices belonged to could be of a threat to her. They sounded so beautiful and smooth and flowing. Like a melodious song. And even though she couldn't understand a word of what was being said, she was encompassed by it all the same. Hanging onto every word as if she understood completely. And part of her deep, deep down, really did

Lack of comprehension of their language notwithstanding, Buffy could always recognize tones, and these three were quite floundered. They sounded as if they were having a debacle over how they should proceed. Apparently Buffy had done a great hiding job. _I was always the best at it _she thought to herself with a small smile. Then she frowned slightly as she remembered playing a particular game with her little sister Dawn, where Buffy had managed to stick it out for six hours straight, causing Dawn to run to Joyce with tears in her eyes because she had thought Buffy had been kidnapped, or worse. Her frown deepened further when that course of thought led her to the fact that that memory never happened, it was just a magical implant. She sighed and drew her attention back to the here and now.

Buffy had been crouching in the verge for a good while now and decided it was time to move to a more prominent position as to better study her might be enemies more carefully. Unfortunately for her, her right leg had fallen asleep and as she went to shift it, the ground also shifted beneath her and she went tripping to the floor with a helluva lot more noise than she had intended. She prayed that whomever the voices had belonged to hadn't heard her, but knew without a doubt that she prayed in vain. Especially when she heard one shout out what sounded like some type of order or another, followed by all three running towards her location. Without thinking Buffy looked up and spotted a tree branch maybe fifteen feet above her. Forcing the numbness from her leg she jumped and grabbed hold... barely. After achieving a firm grip, what Buffy did then would've put every Olympic gymnast gold medalist to shame.

Effortlessly and full of grace, Buffy swung and jumped, quite noiselessly I might add, from branch to branch. She stopped only when her feet landed firmly on a thick branch three fourths up the tree and more than 70 feet from the ground. Just as, she noticed, three silvery-blonde haired men, at least what she thought were three men, reached the hiding spot she was occupying moments ago. Wow! Did I really climb this high that fast? Buffy shrugged in her mind, and crouched to the shadow of the tree, just as she saw one of their heads turn upwards, looking in her direction. What are the odds he didn't see me? Buffy thought. She wished to look down, to see what was happening but she couldn't risk moving or she would most definitely be seen. Buffy waited, and after about ten minutes of almost complete silence, she ventured a peek. When she saw all three men departing into the woods, she let out a huge sigh of profound relief. Less defensive, she leaned back against the tree, and closed her eyes. By doing so however, Buffy failed to see when one man in particular glanced up towards her **exact** position in the tree.

Buffy waited, curled upon that sturdy tree limb for a couple hours would be her guess. The sun would be up soon, she could tell because it was turning the sky into a pale shade of navy blue. _Finally, sunlight!_ But with the rise of the sun also came the cold sting of dawn, and Buffy found herself shivering slightly. She was tired, cold, achy, itchy, and boy howdy was she hungry as the insanely loud grumbling in her stomach kept reminding her. Deciding to risk it all, Buffy leaned out and scanned the area far below her. Content that there was indeed no imminent danger, she began a careful descent down the tree.

After several scrapes, a couple more scratches and a few near-falls, Buffy finally touched back down onto the lowest tree branch. She was thoroughly surprised to discover that it was actually higher than what she had originally anticipated. From this new vantage point she could clearly gauge that she was at least 30 feet from the ground. What surprised her most was realizing she'd had to jump that distance to reach the tree in the beginning. She'd pulled off some high jumps in her day but... This one had her scratching her head. But it could be dwelled upon later. Right now she had to find some way out of this mess. Shelter would be nice but she couldn't bring herself to trust in hope, or luck. They both tended to "misplace" her invitations to their parties.

Carefully, she crouched down and grabbed hold of the branch before letting her body drop. Hey, at least now she could say she knew how the Barrel of Monkeys felt. She reaffirmed her grip, taking hold of the branch with one arm clinging from each side. _OK, Buff... Two options here. 1) You just drop and risk a little ankle sprain or so, or 2) You try getting a grip around that impossibly large, not to mention foot-hole-less tree, and scratch ya-fronts all to hell along the way..._ She glanced down at her body before adamantly shaking her head at herself and continuing out loud, "Huh uh! Definitely no way in **hell**, am I climbing down. Huh uh!"

_The last thing I need is massive blood loss, or damage to the girls. _She continued in her head._ Especially not when said blood loss could put Hughie, Dewey _**and**_ Louie right on my ass. No sir! Jumping has it! Hands down!_ Buffy glanced down at the ground once more, and closed her eyes. _Ok..._ She thought while taking several deep breaths... _As long as you roll once you hit the ground you'll be fine..._

With her options weighed and measured, Buffy inched slightly nearer to the tree, noting that the ground was slightly higher at the base. It wasn't much, but it made the ground those few inches nearer. There were also the nice bushes to consider... The nice, thorny bushes, no doubt. She swallowed and looked up at her hands then down towards the ground. Closing her eyes, she mouthed a count to herself, "One... Two... Three..." She let go, and just like that, a sharp, blinding and disorienting pain lanced through her, as if someone had taken Thor's hammer right to her side. It was a full-bodied pain that threw her completely off and she forgot to roll when she hit the ground. Buffy landed square on her feet, her left ankle twisting all to hell. She collapsed, partly from her now sprained, possibly broken, ankle, but mainly due to the agonizing pain that racked her entire body. She reached for the starting point of the pain and was near horrified when her hand came in contact with a long and narrow piece of wood. A rather intricately designed piece of wood, that, had it not been sticking out of her side, she might have stayed to admire its craftsmanship. But as it was, all Buffy could think about was something along the lines of, "Ow, for the love of God! OWW!!" and finding some sort of cover.

Buffy attempted to stand and run, but the pain in her ankle caused her to collapse to the ground again. Even more of the torture ensued as the force from the fall jostled her new injuries and caused that blinding agony to lance through her. She stifled a cry of despair, and inhaled a shaky breath. She was wheezing. Judging from where she'd been shot that was NOT a good sign. With one hand clasped around the arrow, applying pressure to the bleeding wound, Buffy used her other hand, and one good foot to drag herself to a nearby tree. Upon reaching it she pushed herself up with her back against it. She grabbed the base of the arrow where it entered her side. She braced herself, clenching her teeth tight and she gave the arrow a slight twist. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt much. Meaning, happy day, the arrowhead was smooth and not edged. Meaning she could just pull it clean out, which she did, amongst a short chorus of gasps and grunts. It _was_ a pretty thing, and sharp. She decided she'd keep it. Who knew, it just might come in handy.

Staring at the bloodied point, she was suddenly reminded of a time she removed one particularly nasty arrow from a certain ensouled Vampire's shoulder. He hadn't had the luxury of a smooth tip. She'd had to punch the damn thing all the way through. Leave it to Buffy in mid-crisis, coughing up blood and bleeding, to have flashbacks of a different time. She used her hand to apply pressure to the wound, which caused her mind to clear of its inner musings and focus on her dire situation. Using the tree's leverage she hoisted herself to a standing, beit wobbly, position. Then, just as she was about to push off and stumble to another tree, a pair of strong arms encircled her body. Buffy attempted to struggle free but the arms' grip was firm, holding her tight, but it didn't hurt. Perhaps at full strength she would have been able to dislodge herself from them, but as it was, their strength overcame any Buffy had left. It didn't help that with every struggle the arms' grasp became tighter.

Once Buffy ceased struggling, the voice belonging to the owner of the strong tree limbs called out in that oddly beautiful language. Responding, the two other men jumped down from the trees and slowly walked closer, all the while bows aimed at the ready. The thinner one looked at her side, her wound, and frowned deeply, regret swimming in his eyes. _Is that concern I see? _Buffy thought but realized that wasn't possible and shook the thought away. She tilted her head up slightly, daring to look at the man holding her. If they had met under different circumstances, i.e. he wasn't trying to kill her, she just might have let him... 'get to know her better'. She was wheezing worse now and she suddenly coughed harshly, her mouth flooding with a coppery taste she knew to be blood. She forced her attention on the man ensnaring her. His features showed no emotion, but she saw in his eyes what his face was trying to hide. He too looked at her with concern swimming in his beautiful silver eyes. Buffy then realized something. They knew she was injured and seemed quite put off by it... Thinking back now, if she had waited a couple more seconds to jump, the arrow wouldn't have hit her at all... It would have embedded right into the tree... It was a sturdy arrow... Might have even held her weight if it had... What if they hadn't meant to hurt her? No! This wound was making her more delirious than she thought. She coughed again, and her head swam.

Without another thought Buffy gasped harshly and cringed from massive pain. Her eyes slowly rolled into the back of her head, and she went completely lifeless in the arms of he who was holding her. The man's grip loosened drastically and he called out frantically to the other men. The other two had already lowered their bows and rushed to his side as he laid Buffy's body on the ground. He called out a few words and they set out into the trees, in search of something.

The largest of the three, leader obviously, set about searching his pack. Suddenly, one of Buffy's eyes splintered open as a small glint of silver flashed in her vision. Quickly she closed her eye as the man had found what he was looking for and turned to lean over her. She had to act. Suddenly, in one astonishingly fast swoop, Buffy kneed the man in the head, grabbed his pretty knife, and straddled his chest. She pushed the knife dangerously close to his neck. She smirked down at the yummy blonde as he tried to struggle but Buffy, suddenly finding a second wind, anticipated his every move and balanced herself easily. It helped that she had his arms pinned down by her legs. She had a sneaking suspicion, however, that he hadn't tried that hard to get free. If he wanted to treat her like she could drop dead any moment, let him. She was very aware of an increasingly numbing pain, but she tried her hardest to ignore it. Her eyes glazed over slightly and beads of sweat began breaking out on her forehead. Her side really hurt. And it was getting harder and harder to breathe. She tried shaking the feeling away. Amazing sometimes how slayerly survival skills can win out over a girl's common sense, sometimes.

The man beneath her spoke then. It didn't sound like the same language they were speaking in earlier but she still couldn't understand a lick of it. She did know that his voice sounded almost pleading, his tone and his facial features wrought with concern, and even a tinge of fear. Buffy's brow furrowed heavily and she looked at the man beneath her, surprised by the evident concern shown in his mesmerizing silver eyes, that, she could clearly see now, also had a hint of green just lining his iris. She shook her head again and glared down at him. "Don't patronize me, buddy!" The man's brow furrowed in incomprehension. Buffy scoffed as she reaffirmed her grip on the knife. "You got another thing comin' if you think for one _instant_ that I'm letting my guard down so you and your boys can finish the job." Buffy suddenly remembered something.

With break neck speed she stood pulling the man up on his knees with her. She held him in a straining choke hold, pressing the knife dangerously close to his throat. The man didn't struggle, which surprised Buffy again. She quickly got over it, however, when she saw his two other flackies approach, bows raised.

"If you value this man's life you'll drop your weapons?" Buffy barked. The two archers glanced at each other then at the man in Buffy's hold, but never faltered their aim. Buffy glared at them harder. **"I MEAN IT!"** She cried out in desperation as she dug the knife slightly deeper, actually drawing a small sliver of blood from his neck. The man in her arms didn't flinch, but the two spectators did. With looks of anger and confusion, they lowered their bows. Or... At least the two big blurs did a movement that looked as if they had lowered their bows. Man her side REALLY hurt! And she really, REALLY was having trouble breathing. A slight wind blew the man's long silver-blond locks into Buffy's face. Attempting to shake her thoughts of blonde haired men, and his hair away from her, Buffy's head tilted upwards, which caused her gaze to catch upon a feature of the man she hadn't noticed until just then. "Hey!" she said almost dreamily. "Your ears are... poin...ty..." Her words faded and the knife dropped dead from her hand as she fell backwards. But such was the grace and agility of the man, he managed to catch her and lowered her to the earth. He was speaking that bizarre language again, but this time his voice **_did_** sound as if he were trying to enchant her. The entire world slipped slowly away and her last moments were of a sudden feeling of safety. As if everything would be alright. These last thoughts, however, didn't feel like her own. Though that didn't matter much for all had long since faded to nothing.

_To Be Continued in the next chapter... **Universal Sign Language**_

_(**A/N:** If you have anything constructive to say as in "Oh I think at this one part it would be better if..." or "I didn't like this one part because..." I'd love to hear about it. Or if you just wanna plain rave about how good it was, I love to hear that! And if you wanna say how much you disliked it, hopefully there's a reason and I'll try to fix it..._

_Stay tuned to see what happens. Who's the elf getting up close and personal with Buffy? Will he manage to get free? Will Buffy finally put some clothes on? Find out all this and more in the next chapter. Please review! It may just inspire me to write more. I love constructive criticism. Love it, love it, love it!  
Cheers! _=^.^= _)_


	4. Universal Sign Language

_Again, I repeat, Disclaimers in Prologue and such! And a deep, personal, heartfelt thanks for sticking with me this far! Bon Apetit!_

**Universal Sign Language**

The sound of a crackling fire and a soft tenor voice which was weaving an enchanting melody through the air like some magical spell lured Buffy back to consciousness, but at the same time nearly willed her back to sleep. She couldn't understand it, but the tune was putting her soul and her mind in an immense state of ease, which was probably its intent. She slowly pried open her eyes only to squeeze them shut when the soft light from the fire aggravated the pain in her head. She groaned softly and the song stopped. _No, don't stop! It was beautiful! _She sensed more than heard someone approach and crouch next to her. The being spoke soothingly in that mysterious language of his. He then replaced the slightly damp towel on her head with a fresh cool one. _Mmm! Much better._ Buffy peaked open her eyes again and one of the most elegant, sculpted faces she'd ever seen was gazing down at her in genuine concern. She remembered that face.

"Man, do you boys ever know how to show a girl a good time!" She managed to joke, though her words were slightly slurred from weariness, and her voice was raspy from disuse. How long had she been asleep? The man only stared down at her in incomprehension. Clearly he didn't understand a word she was saying. Logical, seeing as how she couldn't make heads or tails of anything he'd said either. She cleared her throat and tried to swallow, attempting to rub the soreness away in the process. God she was thirsty... Not to mention she ached almost everywhere...

The man left her side but, as if reading her mind, returned a moment later flashing a skin of water before her and motioned with his hand, "Drink." She licked her lips and attempted to sit up, but the pain in her now-bandaged side, plus the throbbing in her head made such a simple act much more difficult than it should have been. She collapsed back down. Suddenly the silver-haired man was there and he wrapped one strong arm around her shoulders and helped her to sit up... _Very slowly._.. He then gently pressed the opening to her mouth to help her drink. It wasn't water! Abruptly Buffy turned her head, coughing and spluttering out the small sip she'd almost drank. Which only aggravated her injury and she groaned, her brow furrowing deeply together.

The man said something in a consoling tone, shaking his head in a placating manner. He addressed the skin again and said, "Miruvor!" Then, she guessed as a show of faith, he took a drink, then made a slightly exaggerated show of being refreshed from the beverage. His antics actually managed to make her smirk... But only a little. He once more helped her to sit, helping her drink, he was glad when she took several small sips. Well, it might not have been water, but whatever the hell it was, it was definitely the most refreshing substance that ever coated her pallet. As she drank, the liquid seemed to spread through her veins like fire. She felt warmth and rejuvenation wash over her like a fresh April shower. It was very pleasant. One sip, however, came a little too fast and managed to go down the wrong tube, causing her to cough and splutter.

"Fuck!" She couldn't stop the profanity, nor did she apologize when her caretaker looked at her in surprise. She stifled her coughing fit quickly, for every expulsion wracked her lungs and her rib cage and she felt the slight pain clear to her feet. Although, she would admit it was lessened greatly after that drink. He had already put the liquid skein away. When her coughing ceased, he helped clean where she'd spilled, then gently laid her back down. She spoke softly up to him, her voice slightly raspy once again from coughing, "Thank you." She cleared her throat and swallowed again.

He replied in his language and she guessed he probably meant something along the lines of, "You're Welcome." Amazing how depending upon the circumstance, some tones and responses can be understood no matter the language.

It was then that she took a little time to look around and take in their surroundings. He had set up a small camp in a very small clearing surrounded by more of those beautiful, almost glowing silver trees. It was night, and the moon, only half full, gleamed high in the sky. It was probably around midnight if she had to guess. Buffy became maddeningly curious about how long she'd been unconscious, and how far they'd travelled, if at all. She remembered how nasty her wounds had been, and seeing as how she no longer felt like she was going to die, he had to have been mending to her for several days at least. Maybe he and his companions were taking turns as her watcher. Speaking of his companions, the other two men were nowhere to be seen, but she could bet they weren't too far away.

She also noted that he, or one of the others, had taken great care to heal and bandage as best they could out here in the wilderness without a proper infirmary. That fact alone was the main contributor keeping her from trying to clear her way out of there right then. If they truly had, had intentions to kill her, they'd have done so already, or at least they wouldn't have bothered curing her. Plus, truth be told she was already feeling about 72 percent right as rain. Five by five as a certain brunette bombshell would have said once upon a time. The thought of her sister-slayer, Faith, brought a frown to Buffy's brow but she didn't dwell on it.

Buffy had always been a quick healer, but she could bet that a lot of her rising strength could be attributed to the power drink Blondie over there had just given her. "_Mirror-beer"_ or whatever the hell he'd called it. Even her headache had gone. She pushed herself up on her elbows, just enough to look around without straining her injuries. She noted, very gratefully, that she was no longer naked. Her new "friends" had taken the courtesy to dress her in what was obviously one of their shirts. Judging by how loosely it fit her, it could even be one of _His_.

Buffy continued looking around in hopes she might be able to spot the other two out from their hiding places. It was during her surveillance of the forrest around her that her warden spoke again. "Lorien," he said.

She whipped her head around to look at him with one brow lifted, "What was that?"

"Lorien," he repeated. He then made a grand gesture at the trees and everything around them, before crouching back down next to her and patting the ground almost lovingly. "Lorien," he spoke again.

Buffy repeated his gesture around at the trees, "Lorien... That's where we are? Lorien?" At his nod she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, wracking her brain. She'd never heard of any place called Lorien before in her life. She'd spent years studying geography in school, and with Merrick. She looked around again and sighed with a shake of her head, "Well Toto... I definitely don't think we're in Kansas anymore." The man only looked upon her in that all-too-familiar gaze of confusion and contemplation. She bet he was a type who furrowed his brow a lot. How he managed to keep his forehead wrinkle free, is what she wanted to know.

The man turned away from her reaching for something, what he was reaching for she could not tell for her focus had yet again caught solely on a feature which she had thought she had just imagined in her earlier state of delusion. Suddenly, her hand reached out and her fingertips caressed the tip of the man's pointed ear, "Your ears _are _pointy! I thought I was going cra-" Her words were suddenly cut off when he grabbed her wrist, and gazed at her in fierce reprimand. With a single platinum-blonde brow lifted, giving him a sort of arrogant look, he shook his head. Buffy noted that his pupils were more dilated than normal and though he'd controlled it quickly, she had also noticed the quick intake of breath that had caught slightly in his chest from her action. Slowly he placed her hand back in her own lap and shook his head at her. Apparently he didn't like to have his ears touched. When they figured out a way to understand each other, she'd have to ask him about that... Fucking language barriers.

He handed her a package that was wrapped in several huge leaves. He folded back one leaf and revealed something that looked almost like shortbread. He then broke off a small portion and held it out to her, then motioned with his other hand to his lips. Universal sign language for "Eat." She took it from him and sniffed it curiously. She looked at him, her own eyebrow raised in question, skepticism clear as day upon her face. He scoffed some and she could bet he was fighting rolling his eyes at her. Giles had that sort of mannerism with her a lot. She grinned as he tore off a small piece and ate it. Then he looked back at her and shrugged his shoulders as if to say "See?" She couldn't help but grin again and she brought the bread like substance to her lips and took a tentative bite. "Hmm... Not too bad..." She took another bite of the piece he'd given her. It was actually kind of good. It tasted like a cross between Baklava and Scottish shortbread. It was interesting to say the least.

She was about to tear off another piece when he wrapped the packet back up, and took it out of her lap. Alright. Maybe he planned to starve her to death after all? She'd heard of super models watching what they eat before, but that was ridiculous. A couple bites of some fluffy tart and she was supposed to be not hungry anymore? He put the packet back in his bag and the protest died on her lips. Mainly because, suddenly she didn't feel hungry anymore. At all, for that matter... Huh? _What are these people? Magic Elves- No! God, don't even go there, Buffy!_

It was amazing how with just a little nip of wine, and some magic munchies, Buffy was feeling an entire world of better. In fact, all things considered, she was feeling rather content. Like a kitten that just finished a bowl of milk. Even still, the only thing that would make it perfect was if she knew how to talk to her new... What was he? A companion? A captor? For some reason she was leaning very heavily to the term warden... Somehow it just seemed to suit him, so she decided to stick with it. Warden Pointy-ear. She really did wish she could speak with him, though. Then she could at least find out what the hell was going on and where exactly the hell she was.

Buffy sighed heavily. Well... At least she could start with some pleasantries... That would be simple enough... "My name's Delaney Summers... But everyone calls me Buffy," she said and he turned from where he'd been checking his supplies and looked at her again, that arrogant eyebrow lifted in question. She rolled her eyes then patted her hand gently on her chest. Once for each syllable, "Buf-fy." She pointed to herself, "Me. Buffy. You..." She let the sentence die off when she indicated him with that same hand.

In her head she could imagine that light bulb dinging right above his head when he finally grasped what she was getting at. He grinned and turned to her smiling. He mirrored her actions by placing his hand on his chest saying, "Haldir O'Lorien." He then bowed his head towards her. Swords and arrows, head bowing, tight leggings and soft-leather boots? Yep... Definitely nowhere _near_ Kansas. Maybe she'd just been transported back in time or something? That was a possibility... But never, even with all the history of both the human and supernatural worlds did she remember this place, nor did she recall a species like him... Just what was he? The vibes coming off of him reeked of nothing but good, pure things. He definitely was no sort of vampire or demon. Especially seeing as how this glowing halo-esque aura surrounded his entire body, she highly doubted he was any kind of evil. Was he an angel guiding her to heaven? _Yeah, right Buffy... Hunky, pointy-eared, hunky, blonde men sent to guide you to your eternal rest... That'd be the day!_

She was suddenly overcome with a giant yawn. Arching her back slightly, she reached her arms out, stretching languorously like a big cat. She was careful not to extend her rib cage too much, however. It was still delicate, and if she jostled it more than the coughing had done earlier, she could undo the field work the good warden had done, and then where would they be. She covered the last moments of her yawn with the back of her hand and shook the remnants of the feeling from her head. Tilting her head to each side, she cracked and popped her neck joints. She felt better knowing she was healing fast. But still that had been one nasty wound. If she really was in some ancient time, they most likely lacked modern medicines to help fight infection. Meaning, her body would have to do all that on its own. Still, Buffy could almost guarantee she'd be ok for light travel by morning. Right now, though, she was still on the mend, but mending fast.

Warden Hal said her name again. Then, using strictly hand signals and other body language, he indicated that she should lie down. He even closed his palms together and pressed them to the side of his head, feigning sleep. Buffy couldn't help but smirk at him. More hand signs where he indicated himself, then pointed at his eyes and presented the forrest around them. If she was reading him correctly, he was trying to tell her that he would watch over her while she slept. This was probably the way he communicated with his fellow warriors when trying to be stealthy. Hal was obviously the leader, commander type, probably used to being taken seriously. "No-bull-shit." But right now she found him rather adorable. This whole thing reminded her of the quiet-time games she used to play with Dawn as a child. Dawn... She suddenly sighed very heavily, as if the weight of the world had suddenly fallen on her shoulders. When her body sunk back down to rest on her pallet, she put up no resistance to the exhaustion that overcame her. More rest could only do her good. Hal had far made amends for the arrow one of his comrades had stuck in her side. Plus he'd given her no real cause for alarm so far. So... She complied with his wishes. Slowly she turned to a more comfortable position, partly leaning on her good side. It was a bit chilly so she pulled the thin, but warm blanket up to her chin. She rested her head on her arm and her eyes fell closed. She yawned again, speaking groggily mid-way through, "Good night... Haldir O'Lorien!"

Haldir simply nodded to her and set himself cross legged by the fire. He then pulled his bundle of arrows next to him and brought out a wet-stone and began sharpening his arrow points. Buffy drifted to sleep to the sound of the small arrow-blade sliding against rock, with Haldir's gentle humming carrying in the air, lulling her into dream.

_She was sitting on the floral couch in her living room gazing at a coffee table laden with presents of many different sizes. When she looked up, she smiled brightly at the two people sitting on the couch opposite her. Staring at Joyce, her aunt whom she loved as dearly as a mother, so much so that she even called her that, and next to Joyce sat her younger sister Dawn, in that moment Buffy felt such a sense of happiness she couldn't tell if it was real or simply in her head. They also seemed to be watching her with equal looks of love and happiness. She knew where she was now. Her Twentieth Birthday party. A very brief happy time before everything in her life had started to spiral downwards. But that didn't matter now. She was home. Surrounded by her family. Everything else was just a dream._

_She looked around and her smile broadened as she saw her family, Xander, Giles, Tara, Willow, and even dear Anya standing around her, smiling down at her on this happy day. Tara and Xander each held another gift in their hands. Buffy giggled softly at her red-headed witch who was wearing a goofy party hat and holding a bottle of bubbles._

_"See... Just what you needed," Willow grinned brightly before blowing some bubbles in Buffy's direction._

_Buffy had, had misgivings about having a party, seeing as there was Glory and many other things to deal with in a life of a slayer. "Yes! You are a very, very wise witch!" Buffy said. Very glad she'd allowed Willow to convince her after all. "Now gimme, gimme, gimme!" Buffy demanded with a broad grin._

_Tara__ handed her a thin box wrapped in pretty paper and Buffy began ripping it apart._

_"This is extremely suspenseful," Anya said in her literal way. "I even want the presents!" Bless her._

_After making quick work of the wrapping and the tissue paper inside the box, Buffy pulled out a beautiful summery dress. "Aw... It's beautiful!" She said with a twinkle in her eye, and a warm melting sensation in her heart. She remembered that dress. She'd loved it at first sight._

_Tara__ turned a soft shade of pink and shrugged, "Well, we thought you'd get lots of crossbows and other Killy stuff..."_

_"Yeah," Willow continued. "So we figured; Less killy, more frilly!"_

_"Gotta look!" Anya grabbed the dress from Buffy. "Oh! It's just so lovely! I wish it was mine." Everyone laid a look upon her and Anya retorted quietly, "Oh, like you weren't all thinking the same thing!" She then put the dress down._

_"I'm fairly certain I wasn't," Giles said before turning to whisper to Xander, "I've already got one just like it!" Xander laughed and Buffy giggled to herself. Her beloved watcher. Only serious most of the time._

_Dawn caught Buffy's attention as she stood up and handed her a small gift, "Here! Open mine!"_

_Buffy raises a skeptical eyebrow at her kid sister, "It's not gonna explode, is it?"_

_Buffy gave it a small shake and Dawn rolled her eyes, making her older sister chuckle. Still giggling some, Buffy opened the small box and from it removed a photo of Dawn and herself, which had been placed in a frame covered in real seashells._

_"It's from when we visited Dad that summer in San Diego," Dawn said matter-of-factly. Buffy stared at it a very long moment and ran her fingertips over the frame. Dawn continued a bit awkwardly, "Um, I put the shells on it myself. We picked them off the beach."_

_"I remember," Buffy interrupted. It didn't matter what those monks said. She had affirmed in herself that very moment, and even before then, that Dawn was hers. Her blood. Her flesh. Her family. Her sister... She would do anything to save her. Buffy smiled and fought back a tear in her eye. Joyce smiled broadly as well and everyone else, who by this time had been told of Dawn's true nature, simply looked thoughtful. Dawn just seemed uncomfortable._

_"Well, geez, don't get all 'movie of the week' on me! I was just too cheap to buy a real present!"_

_Buffy stood up and hugged her sister tightly, "Thank you!"_

_The rest of the night just went from perfect, to not so good, to terrible. After presents, Dawn had overheard a little bit of a conversation between Buffy, Giles, and Joyce. Then when dawn had returned to the party the others, namely Willow, Xander and Tara continued acting a little unusual around her, upsetting the spirited teen who then resolutely locked herself in her room. Through the course of the night, after a break into the magic shop with help from Spike, and a little light reading out of one of Giles' notebooks, Dawn had learned what she was. A fact that Buffy knew she couldn't keep from her sister forever, but also something that she had wanted to reveal to Dawn on her own time._

_Buffy was sitting in an armchair, she hadn't even known her sister had snuck out of the house. To her knowledge Dawn was still brooding in her room upstairs. So Buffy sat slouched in an arm chair, herself brooding somewhat over the fact that a certain "Agent Riley Finn" hadn't even sent a birthday wish._

_"Not even a card, huh?" Willow asked softly._

_Buffy nodded her head and shrugged, "I wasn't really expecting one. No contact with civilians means, no contact with civilians. There's probably even a code name for it. You know, like radio silence, but instead it's 'greeting card silence'."_

_Willow__ apologized even though she'd done nothing wrong and Buffy shrugged again. "Maybe it's time to start a new tradition. Birthdays without boyfriends. It could be just as much fun."_

_Willow grinned and smiled at Tara, "You're preaching to the choir here, baby!"_

_Tara__ grinned, "Yeah some of my best-" She cut herself off and her smile fell when she saw something across the room "Oh-oh my god!" She stuttered. Never a good sign when Tara stuttered._

_Buffy quickly turned to look behind her and stood up just as fast when she saw Dawn standing in the doorway with a very large knife in her hand. Blood was running down her other arm from a cut she'd obviously given herself across her inner forearm._

_Clearly dazed and near sobbing, Dawn spoke, "Is this blood?" Joyce and Giles turned to look at the sound of her voice._

_"Dawn!" Buffy cried out and rushed to her sister._

_"Oh... baby..." Joyce echoed Buffy's concern as she followed._

_Buffy took the knife from her sister and looked for something to stop the bleeding, "What did you do?"_

_Dawn looked at Buffy, still dazed, and continued, "This is blood isn't it? It can't be me? I'm not some key?" Buffy looked up at her sister, shocked. Dawn continued, pleading in her voice, "I'm not a thing?"_

_Joyce stroked Dawn's cheek, "Oh, sweetie! No! What is this all about?"_

_Grimly, Dawn elaborated, "What am I? Am I real? Am I **anything**?" She started sobbing and Joyce hugged her tightly. Buffy watched with a very sorrowful expression on her face, tears filling in her own eyes. _

_There had been so much that she wanted to say to her sister then. So much that she knows now, that if she only could, she'd take her sister in her arms and say it all! Everything! About how much she loved her, and needed her. That if it hadn't been for Dawn, Buffy would have given up so long ago. That if it weren't for her sister's existence, if it weren't for Dawn's creation, Buffy never would have been able to find her true path home... Even if Dawn had only truly existed for the better part of a year, it had taken Dawn's unique influence to shine her namesake into Buffy's life._

_Suddenly thoughts began swimming in Buffy's mind that were coming from a place buried so deep inside of her that it almost felt as if it were coming from a different being. She was gazing forlornly at a frozen image of her sister and wished so badly that Dawn could hear her. "Don't you see Dawn? You were everything! You were not just a key to the universe! You were the key to my soul! You made me whole again! It was you who finally helped heal the dark places in my soul! You sent me home! Don't you see that? If only you could know! Dawn..."_

"Dawn..."

Buffy stirred and mumbled in her sleep. Haldir hoped she might be feeling up to a little travel today, that is if he did most of the work. He would even be willing to carry her the rest of the way to Caras Galadhon, if she let him. He had been making short work of packing up their small camp when Buffy began to stir. It had taken her three days to break the initial fever, which truthfully, he was amazed of that. He had never seen, nor known a man to survive such a wound. But she was strong, and fierce, and full of life, that much was obvious. He did not like the sweat beading on her furrowed brow. If she slipped back into fever again it may be the end of her. It was amidst his work when Buffy had begun stirring in her dreams. Seeing as much as she turned and how deeply her brow was furrowed together, she was obviously having a nightmare of sorts. Then, when she began crying out, he'd taken it as the final cue to wake her, lest she hurt herself in her sleep.

"Dawn?" She cried, just as Haldir shook her softly. Buffy woke with a violent start.

"Dawn!?"Haldir startled back some, but helped steady her, shushing her gently. It took Buffy several moments to regain her bearings. It had been a dream. Just a dream. Dawn was gone. Joyce, Giles, Willow, Xander, Spike... Angel... They were all gone... Those thoughts saddened her, but the despair wasn't great. In fact, she felt sorrow about it less and less the longer she was here. Did this place truly hold some answers for her? Some meaning she'd been searching for her entire life? Could this place be where she might finally find peace and, god forbid, a little happiness? Or was that too much to hope for?

She looked up at the elf kneeling beside her. Haldir was gazing long at her, his face stoic and expressionless, but his eyes were swimming with concern, and even a little intrigue.

Buffy smirked slightly and shook her head, pushing to sit up some, leaning on her elbows, "I'm fine, wonder boy. Just a bad dream. Well... Not bad really... Just weird." She scratched the back of her head.

He looked at her skeptically a moment longer, before nodding curtly. Satisfied at her response. She chuckled to herself. Even though he couldn't know a word she just said, he still understood. Haldir then proceeded, without asking, to untie the sash at her waist, attempting to open her tunic.

"Hey watch it with the grabby hands, bub!" Buffy instinctively began pushing and fighting his hands away. He was persistent, though. "What you didn't get enough of a show when we first met?"

Haldir's brow furrowed deeply and he huffed an annoyed sigh before crossing his arms in front of his chest. He spoke a full sentence in his own language, that, judging by his tone, Buffy imagined wasn't entirely flattering. He sounded down right aggravated. Why did she have that effect on people so much? Haldir rubbed his hands over his face, apparently just as frustrated about the lack of proper communication between them as she was. Clearly he was used to doing things his way, no questions asked. Controlling type. Probably hasn't had a proper girlfriend in years. Sad that. He was really pretty. That thought made her grin to herself and she had to bite back a chuckle. Haldir kneeled beside her again and, with his face stoic once more, he indicated his side, mirroring where her wound would be. Then he held up a rolled bandage. If she knew she wouldn't look so stupid doing it she would have thunked herself on the head. She could imagine the light bulb dinging over _her_ head, this time.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him and, lying back, she began untying the sash herself, "Why didn't you just say so in the first place?" She couldn't hide the smirk that lifted the corner of her mouth. She was an aggravating smart-ass, she couldn't help it. When she pulled her, well really _his_ tunic back, she gratefully noted that she was wearing an undershirt as well, though it was practically see through, much help it did there. Her entire rib cage had been bandaged in a tight suture. Buffy sat up, which made Haldir have to go be all "noble" and try to help her. Silly little leprechaun. A Slayer can sit-up on her own, thank you very much. Making sure to keep her blanket about her waist she raised her shirt to just below her breasts, exposing enough to let Haldir do his thing. She'd done enough field bandages in her day, but she was no doctor, or surgeon. The wound she'd sustained however many days ago, would have made even her need a trip to the good ol' ER. Haldir must really know his stuff.

Her blush faded when Haldir set to work. She was practically naked, but still he seemed all business. Deliberately trying to make her feel as comfortable as possible. He tenderly removed the wrapping from around her waist, obviously fearing he might hurt her. When he got down to the actual bandage, it was stained a deep red. He removed it, peeling it back very slowly. He then wet a towel and gently washed away the dried blood around the base of the wound. The more he wiped, the deeper his brow furrowed. The deeper his brow furrowed, the faster he cleaned. Buffy was fighting very hard to not giggle at his facial expressions. When he had cleared the entire spot, he ran his fingers over the tender area several times. The action actually made Buffy giggle and she pressed her hands and the shirt down to stop him.

"Ok, Hal... Enough with the tickling..." He was still staring at her rib cage. Buffy waved her hand in front of his face, "What's wrong? Does it look really bad?"

Buffy raised her shirt again and looked down. She tilted her head this way and that, sharing Haldir's look of disbelief. "Huh... Whattya know?" she asked in a sort of _"Well, would you look at that?"_ manner, as if she were surprised, but at the same time, kind of expected it. Haldir looked up at her, and Buffy looked right back. God he had amazing eyes, she could totally get lost in them if she wanted, but all she could do now was shrug. She didn't know the answer. She knew she healed faster than humanly possible, but even Buffy expected an injury like that to still be festering a little. They had both expected another field dressing would be needed.

Buffy ran her fingertips over the reddish-pinkish spot on her skin. It was still very tender, and swollen, and the skin around the area was bruised light purple, but other than that, it was pretty much healed. A wound like that would have had a man 3 times her size laid up and in stitches for months. Haldir sat back on his heels and scratched his head, deep in thought. Buffy finished cleaning off the dried blood then dropped her shirt and gazed sidelong at him. He simply sat there a long time and stared at the same spot on her body. Buffy could see, through his eyes, that his mind was working, wracking his brain for answers which didn't come. By his many long centuries of knowledge, it wasn't possible, but the proof was staring him in the face. Literally.

She waved her hand in front of his face again, bringing him slightly out of his reverie, "Hey... What's up, doc?" That would've been so much funnier if he had, had any clue what she was saying. Buffy only rolled her eyes at herself.

He was clearly flabbergasted by how quickly she'd healed. Hell, she was a little curious about it herself, to be honest.. But unfortunately for the both of them, they couldn't ask the questions right now. Her ribs were still tender so she reached for the binding and started to wrap it around herself. That brought Haldir fully from his reverie and he assisted her. He wrapped it a little tight to help support her rib cage for the journey. When he was finished, Buffy extended her hand to him and he grasped her by the wrist and helped her to stand. He stared at her in question a very long moment and Buffy could do nothing but shrug her shoulders. He shook his head again.

After securing the tunic and sash around her waist, Buffy proceeded to stretch languorously like a cat, testing out her bindings. Haldir, only momentarily distracted by the display, quickly busied himself by rolling up the pallet she'd been previously occupying. He secured it with rope to his pack. As Buffy covered a yawn, Haldir handed her another slice of that weird shortening bread, plus... a big juicy red apple. Buffy gazed at the red delicious as if she hadn't seen anything so beautiful in her life! She took both items gratefully and immediately took a huge crunching bite of the apple! Very yum!

All stretched out and with a happy tummy, Buffy had a chance to take notice that the tunic, which Haldir wore as a long shirt, hit her low, just above her knees. It was longer than most of the skirts she used to wear. She even had to roll the sleeves up, which she did with a sour attitude. Don't get her wrong, Buffy didn't mind being small, not in the least. She just hated being reminded of the fact!

Haldir stood up and made several more hand gestures to her. Some were confusing but after a few long-suffering attempts he managed to get his point across. Buffy hoped she understood him right. He was concerned about her injuries, but they'd both seen how well they were off, but still he was wondering if she would be alright to travel.

Buffy adjusted the tunic some, making it a little more comfortable and she nodded to him in the affirmative, "Ready when you are, hot cakes." She didn't really know why she still insisted on speaking to and joking around with him as if he could understand her. She figured mostly it was so she wouldn't go crazy. Silence has never really sat well with Buffy, especially not ever since that unpleasant visit from "The Gentleman." Never did she love the sound of her own voice more than after that.

She was distracted from her inner thoughts when Haldir stepped in front of her holding a hunter-green scarf. He smiled, then stepped up behind her and attempted to secure it over her eyes. Buffy put her hands up, holding him still, ready to strike out if needs be. Predicting her reaction, he did not force the blind fold on her. Haldir looked down at her, his face pleasant, and he whisper something very soothing, and calm into her ear. He was so close, Buffy could feel his breath on her neck. There was no menace in his voice and she sensed no misgivings or ill-intentions from him. She remembered the legend of Robin Hood, prince of thieves. His band of outlaws had a secret hide-out. Sherwood forrest and Robin's camp of outlaws within. All welcome visitors, even Robin's love the Maid Marian, were blindfolded as they were taken into the heart of his camp. To protect its secrecy, and it's fantasy. Perhaps the place Hal was taking her was just as special and secret. A place needed to be hidden from a stranger's eyes. Alright. She would trust him... For now.

"Alright," she complied. "But first sign or sense of anything fishy..." she held a threatening finger up at him and he smiled and proceeded to tie the thick, silk scarf over her eyes. Not so bad... A blind journey just might mean that her hunky escort just might have to guide her by the hand the whole way. Not too bad a prospect, that.

After he secured the blindfold around her head she heard him move away to grab his satchel. It was not long until, just like she'd hoped, Haldir was back and he took her hand in his. Then, just like that, with a few whispered words of encouragement, he gently pulled Buffy along with him into the trees. With any luck they would make it to Caras Galadhon without any further incident. The Lord and Lady of Lorien will no doubt, be anxious to meet their special 'guest.'

_To Be Continued in... **Deep in the Hundred Acre Woods**_

_(**A/N:** The next chapter title is still pending... I'm still working on it... If anyone knows of any good betas please send them my way! Thanks! I got most of the dialogue for the flashback from !  
__  
Well there it is folks... Kinda long I'm sorry... Almost two chapters in one, Eep!... I've been really sick lately, screwed up my back something fierce, and then was struck terrible by a massive Sinus and Ear infection which I'm still sadly suffering from... It may take me a little longer to finish the next chapter, so if I go a week or so before updating, please don't give up hope on me, ok? Thanks for bearing with me so far, and keep those reviews coming, I love your feedback! Constructive, positive, and negative! Hope you liked it! I know I liked writing it!  
Cheers!_ =^.^=_)_


	5. Deep in the Hundred Acre Woods, Part One

**_Disclaimer_****_: I do not own or lay claims to anything related to Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer or J.R.R. Tolkien's world of Middle Earth. I write this specifically to satisfy my own creativity and the Muse that can't seem to leave me alone. It is written solely to entertain and amuse, and maybe possibly to inspire. No profit is being made. Thank you!_**

**Deep in the Hundred Acre Woods, Part One**

They'd been walking in companionable silence for the better part of the day, clear into the early evening. They'd stopped twice during that time to take a small meal and rest, but Haldir had not allowed them to remain idle for long. The Marchwarden of Lothlorien had a great desire to bring the maiden Buffy before his Lord and Lady. The adaneth was a true enigma and his desire to uncover that enigma filled him with an almost overwhelming sense of haste. So one maybe able to imagine his irritation at being delayed by the bane of his existence.

"Haldir!"

Haldir sighed on a groan at the familiar voice of his brother. He paused, where the lady next to him spoke in that strange dialect of hers. Haldir squeezed her hand in reassurance. He'd permitted her removal of the blindfold during their times of respite, but as they journeyed he insisted she wear it. Buffy might not have caused harm to him or his forest thus far, but Haldir o Lorien did not lay down his guard or trust so easily.

With an annoyed sigh, Haldir turned to greet his brother as he approached quickly on foot. "Yes, Rumil, what is it?"

Haldir noticed that the Lady Buffy had taken the liberty of lowering her blind. Haldir minded not, for they were not traveling anywhere for the moment. When Rumil noticed Buffy next to his older brother he stopped and bowed in front of her with his hand over his heart.

"Hiril nin," Rumil began. "There are no words to describe my sorrow at the injury I caused you. I cannot possibly ask for your forgiveness enough."

Rumil then took Buffy's hand and bowed over it. At the look of incredulousness and confusion on Buffy's face, Haldir could not stop himself. He laughed. Both Rumil, and the lady Buffy turned looks on him. Buffy's was one of awe at his merriment, Rumil's was of shock. Haldir simply did not laugh.

The lady said something to Rumil in a language he did not recognize, then indicated toward her hand with a nod of her head. Rumil's brow furrowed, but he continued to hold on. Quickly and with a huff of annoyance, the woman ripped her hand from Rumil's grasp, startling him slightly. Haldir laughed harder. He might not understand her, but Haldir recognized a fiery temperament and spirit when he saw one.

"I do not understand. What amuses you so, gwador nin?" Rumil inquired.

Haldir's laughter slowly subsided and the stern mask slipped back into place, "The lady does not speak Elvish, nor Westron or any other dialect of Middle Earth that I know of." Haldir folded his arms over his chest before continuing. "Then, as for her injury? Well," he paused to think how best to describe it. "Let me just assure you, the lady is quite well now."

Rumil appeared as if he would inquire further, until the lady audibly cleared her throat. Haldir turned to her and she whispered something then indicated to Rumil with a quirk of her thumb. Haldir recognized that look. He sighed, "I beg your pardon, lady Buffy. But, I'd like to introduce my brother... Rumil." Haldir accented Rumil's name as he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, solely to clarify who Rumil was. Haldir then turned to his brother, "Rumil, this is the Lady _Buffy_."

Rumil held his hand out to meet hers, where they shook. Rumil then turned a questioning look to his elder brother. "Buffy?" Rumil inquired, not hiding the disbelief at what he thought was quite a ridiculous name for a lady.

Rumil had missed the burning glare Buffy leveled upon him, but Haldir caught it. It was a look that had Haldir cringing on behalf of his younger brother. Haldir noted to himself to never be on the small woman's bad side. Clearly she'd understood Rumil's attempt at humour towards her name and she did not appreciate it whatsoever.

Suddenly, Rumil cried out in surprise and pain and struggled to pull his hand from Buffy's tightening grip. When he pulled it free he hugged it to himself and swore in Elvish. Then for the second time in one day the impossible happened; Haldir laughed again.

"Ai, ceryn Manwë! 'Tis not funny, Haldir! That was my bow hand!" Rumil tried to shake the pain from his wounded palm. The lady might be small, but she had a Titan's grip.

Haldir patted Rumil on the shoulder, still smiling, "In the future then, I suggest biting your tongue before making jest at some of the oddities the lady possesses."

Buffy punched Haldir on the shoulder then, causing Haldir to flinch. He brought a hand up to rub the now tender spot on his arm. "What in Arda was that for?" Not only did she possess a vibrant spirit, but she packed a mighty punch too.

Lady Buffy began speaking adamantly in her own tongue, all the while pointing a damning finger at the two brothers. Though they understood nothing she said, the threat and reprimand were clear and they had the intelligence to look sheepish for their actions.

Turning a smirk on the both of them, Buffy crossed her arms. Only when she let a small chuckle escape her throat did Haldir and Rumil allow their normal moods to return.

After a brief silence, Haldir remembered something. "So, tell me brother, what exactly possessed you with such an overwhelming urge to delay our journey?" A single platinum eyebrow raised in question.

"By the Valar! Where is my head?"

"In the clouds, as always..." Haldir answered under his breath.

"What?" Rumil asked.

"Nothing. Go on?" Haldir prompted, growing impatient from his brother's lack of getting to the point.

"You are well aware of the Orcs that have been trolling the Northern borders." At Haldir's nod he went on. "We have been picking them off if they dare to venture even one foot into the Golden Wood. Recently, however, they have grown more bold. Instead of just one or two orcs overstepping our bounds, they've been coming in fives, or even greater."

"Yes... And?... Surely the elves stationed there have been able to ward them off."

"See, therein lies the problem. Many of our Wardens have returned to Caras Galadhon on leave for the upcoming Solstice celebration. The action is always slow this time of year so it has never been an issue..." Rumil paused.

"Get to the point Rumil, for Varda's sake!" Haldir's patience was ready to break.

Rumil sighed heavily, "Our Elves on the northern border were forced to retreat after sustaining heavy injury. The Or-"

"Retreat? What?" Haldir was outraged. "Injuries? From a few dirty yrch! Why would they-"

"It is well more than a few, brother!" Rumil interrupted. The elder elf stopped and crossed his arms. Rumil could see the muscles in Haldir's jaw working to control his temper.

When Rumil felt it was safe to go on, he continued, "As I was trying to tell you before, their number has been increasing. We believe they were merely testing our defenses at first. Then, last night a band of at least fifty orcs with over a dozen warg riders, breached our defenses. Our warriors killed quite a few of the vermin, but with as little elves we had, we were forced to retreat. Word has been sent and every post is sending any elves they can spare, which are sadly not many. We need all the elves we can, so I was sent to find you. It's hardly a battle, brother, but we need our leader."

This was absolutely perfect. A day and a half's travel to Caras Galadhon, and this had to happen. Less than two days and Buffy would be safe with the Lord and Lady and Haldir would be free to defend his woods any way he saw fit. Now it seemed he had only one choice. He would not leave his elves to fight without him. He would go to the northern borders. He would lead his warriors against the disgusting creatures fouling his forrest, and... He would have to bring the Lady Buffy with him. The Valar were testing him, of that he was sure.

Haldir turned to Buffy then and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking intently into her eyes, "Lady Buffy, I know you do not understand, but I need you to hear me, now." Buffy looked back at him just as intently, recognizing his mood and tone for one she'd used many times before going into battle. At the look on her face, Haldir continued, "As much as I would like to see you safely to Caras Galadhon, I fear I have no choice but to bring you with me now, into grave danger."

Buffy nodded reassuringly before placing her hand on Haldir's shoulder. She said something then, but Haldir did not understand. He only recognized the set of determination on her face and her features. Haldir prayed to the Valar that she understood their dire situation, and asked them to watch over her this day, to protect her and his warriors for what they will face.

"We must now make haste, brother," Rumil warned. "Orophin and his elves await our arrival, but who knows what those mangy orcs could be up to."

Haldir turned to him and nodded. If they ran most of the way they just might make it to the Northern encampment by early morning, just before sunrise. If they pushed themselves, but Haldir feared with their human companion in tow it would be somewhat slower going. They would just have to take their time.

During Haldir's inner musings Rumil had already turned and began a jog through the forrest. It wasn't until he felt a tug on his arm that he realized Buffy was pulling him along after Rumil. As their jog increased in speed, Buffy released Haldir's hand to maintain her balance as she sprinted through the thicket after Rumil.

The further they ran, the more Haldir was impressed by his lady charge. He couldn't help but notice that the way Buffy moved was pure, fluid motion. Her breathing was even and steady, her pace quick and light. Normally, any human, even those in good shape, would be panting and fumbling over their own feet by now. Then, if his senses served him right, Haldir felt their pace quickening. Seeing as how he had been letting Buffy set their speed, that amazed him even further. Plus the way she was smiling made her look so carefree, loose and wild, like some beautiful forrest sprite, making merry and mischief amongst the trees. That thought had Haldir smiling himself. Before long their journey into imminent danger began to feel more like a game.

When Buffy outpaced Rumil that was the final straw. Both Elves were now making sport to keep up with or outrun the lady. At this rate, if Buffy did not tire too greatly too soon, they would surely make it to the encampment before dawn. Another thought that had Haldir smiling. The night just might be looking up after all.

**_...Several hours later..._**

During the course of their travel they hadn't stopped even once. There had been only a couple times where Buffy had needed to slow their pace to a brisk walk or jog, to regain some stamina. Apart from that, however, they had run the entire way. Now, about half a mile from the encampment, they slowed their pace to a brisk walk, not wanting to raise any alarm. A small group of elves journeyed forth to meet the three companions. There was hand shaking and greetings all around.

"Mae govannen, Haldir. Praise the Valar you have arrived so swiftly." Haldir took his other brother's offered hand and they embraced.

"How many have come?" Haldir asked as Orophin led them to the heart of the encampment.

"Twelve have joined us from the Southern and Eastern guards," Orophin responded, easily taking up his position as Haldir's second as he'd done so many times in the past. Even though Haldir was younger than him, Orophin admired and looked up to their Lady's most trusted Marchwarden. "The West could spare only two, for the threat from Moria is still too great."

Haldir nodded, saying nothing. When Orophin noticed the lady, he bowed his head, a gesture she reciprocated. No words were spoken or exchanged, just a simple acknowledgment of the other.

There were no fires lit, nor tents that Buffy could see and she wondered where they could have been camping. A climbing rope, knotted in several places, suddenly dropped down in front of the group. Guess that answered her question. One by one the elves began to ascend the rope. Haldir remained behind with Buffy to help her. It was a rather far climb to the talan above.

"Come, lady Buffy. I will assist you." Haldir held the rope for her, and extended a knee to help her up.

Buffy's only response was to give the haughty elf a look that simply said, "You can't be serious." Though whether she questioned his seriousness about climbing the rope, or about him trying to help her climb said rope, Haldir was uncertain. Then, as if in answer to his unasked question, Buffy grabbed the rope and without his aid, began to climb. Quite deftly, he might add. Once again, Haldir o Lorien was left to ponder after the petite adaneth.

Once atop the Talan, Haldir took a moment to truly assess their situation. With the Wardens of the Northern guard excluding those injured, plus the reserves sent from the South, West, and East, they had a sum of nearly twenty-five soldiers. Scant, but it would do.

Haldir turned to address Orophin once more, "How many of the enemy are there?'

"We managed to kill around twenty or so before the Wargs overcame us."

Haldir pondered another moment, then turned his gaze to the north, where the enemy camped about a mile or so out. The orcs had cut down several smaller trees to use as wood for their fires. That thought alone angered Haldir greatly. How dare they desecrate his forrest. From Orophin's description, Haldir guessed there to be around thirty orcs plus the wargs. The odds were against them, but the elves had the high ground. Haldir's main concern was for the safety of the woods. If they became desperate enough, the orcs would undoubtedly bring their fires to the trees. That would not do. They needed to get the enemy away from their camp, away from the flames.

"Rumil, Orophin!" Haldir called for his brothers who took positions at either side of him." Take your best archers, only two per flet. Orophin you will cover this area from above. Rumil, you will take your men and cover the area to the east." Haldir pointed in the distance to where Rumil would go. "Form a perimeter with your men."

"What is your plan, brother?" Rumil was ever curious as to why he would have them split their numbers.

"Those fires are a danger, not only to us, but to Lothlorien herself. I will take our remaining warriors and we will draw the orcs to you." All three brothers nodded at Haldir's plan. With a hand on one of each of his brother's shoulders, Haldir spoke softly. "Be careful, gwedeir nin. _A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn, an uben tanatha le faelas._" They nodded again and Rumil collected his men as he departed.

Buffy approached Haldir and Orophin. "Haldir?... Warrior," was all she said, but she indicated herself with a hand on her chest as she said it.

Haldir turned to her then, placing his hands on her shoulders, "Yes, Buffy. I am a warrior. We are all warriors. Where we go now, I fear you cannot come. I must ask you to stay here with Orophin." With that, Haldir indicated his brother, who turned to Buffy and bowed with his hand over his heart. "He will protect you," Haldir finished. Buffy started raging in her own language. Haldir heard the frustration in her voice, saw the pleading in her eyes. "I am sorry, tithen adaneth. But I must leave you, to lead my elves." Haldir wrongly interpreted Buffy's frustration at wanting to fight, as fear of him leaving her.

Buffy, unable to speak her mind, sighed in resignation and crossed her arms over her chest to pout. Haldir smiled, and rubbed her shoulders soothingly. Then, with the remaining men who would be going with him, Haldir descended from the talan.

Orophin gave his orders to his men. Only eight to occupy the four talans that formed their perimeter. Once he was sure they understood their orders, he turned to the lady whom Haldir had addressed as Buffy. "So, tell me lady Buffy," Orophin began. He had recognized in her a kin warrior spirit, and they could use every fighter they had. So, when Buffy turned to him Orophin held up a spare bow, borrowed from one of his injured comrades. He then asked, "Have you any skill with a bow?"

_To Be Continued in... **Deep in the Hundred Acre Woods, Part Two**..._

_(Crappy place to end it, I know... But this chapter is proving to be rather lengthy so I had to break it up! The next part'll be up before you know it, I promise! Thanks for reading... And reviewing *cough* Cheers! _=^.^=_ )_

_**||Elvish Translations||**_

_hiril nin ~ "My lady"  
Ai, ceryn Manwë! ~ "Hey, Manwë's balls!"  
yrch ~ "Orcs"  
A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn, an uben tanatha le faelas. ~ "Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none."  
gwador nin ~ "My brother"  
gwedeir ~ "my brothers"  
Mae govannen ~ "Well met"  
tithen adaneth ~ "little woman"_


	6. Deep in the Hundred Acre Woods, Part Two

**_Disclaimer_****_: I do not own or lay claims to anything related to Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer or J.R.R. Tolkien's world of Middle Earth. I write this specifically to satisfy my own creativity and the Muse that can't seem to leave me alone. It is written solely to entertain and amuse, and maybe possibly to inspire. No profit is being made. Thank you!_**

**Deep in the Hundred Acre Woods, Part Two**

Haldir waited patiently with his elves. The sun would be rising soon, and though the large Mellorn trees provided adequate shading, sunlight would weaken the Orcs greatly. The coming of the dawn also meant that the Orcs would be letting their fires die down. By day break they would be naught but embers.

Orcs were truly despicable creatures. Ugly, foul, constantly fighting amongst themselves, eating raw flesh. Haldir knew that most Orcs and Goblins were cannibals, but witnessing the act first-hand was enough to make one sick. Haldir wanted to wipe the vermin from the face of Arda, to rid them from his forrest. The only thing that prevented him from acting now is that Orophin and Rumil needed time to get their archers in place. Otherwise it would be a very short fight. When dawn broke, and his brothers gave their signals, only then would the Marchwarden and his elves act.

When the sun made its way just a little further into the sky, a shrill bird whistle sounded from the east and west. Immediately, Haldir sprung into action. Haldir stood swiftly, followed by his elves and they marched to the border of the orc encampment. All nine of Haldir's elves took up their bows and aimed. Haldir whispered then, so low that if they were anything but Elves, they would not have heard him, "_Faeg i-varv... dîn na lanc a nu ranc._"

With Haldir's signals they loosed their arrows, first wave taking out at least eight of the orc scum. Everything next happened much too quickly. Alerted now, the orcs began to stir, but volley after volley caught more off guard. Over a dozen more of their number had been depleted before they truly began to retaliate. With the orc advancement on the small band they were forced to put away their bows and face the enemy in melee combat. The elves were outnumbered, and would be overrun and destroyed, soon. Which is precisely what Haldir wanted the enemy to think.

"Fall back to the trees," Haldir shouted to his men in their native tongue. "Retreat!"

Haldir and his elves turned to flee as several warriors once more took their bows in hand to loose their deadly volleys at the pursuing enemy. When it was sure the orcs would follow, Haldir had his elves break off into two separate parties. One group headed easterly, the other west. The orcs, surprised and bloodthirsty, did exactly what Haldir had hoped they would. They split and followed pursuit. The elves easily outpaced the filthy creatures. It was the Warg riders that were Haldir's main concern. Just a little further, however, they would take the advantage. Just a few meters more and the enemy would fall right into their nets... That is, if the wargs did not bear down upon them first. Perhaps this might not have been the best of plans after all.

Haldir noticed then, he had just crossed the western marker, where Orophin had set up his perimeter. "Daro!" Haldir cried to his archers, knowing they'd know it was them he spoke to. Just a little further, they needed to clear the line of fire, and further encase the orcs in their net. He turned then to face off against a few goblins that had caught up to them. Haldir feinted back, letting the goblin falsely believe he was earning the upper hand, when all Haldir was doing was luring them further in.

"Leithio i philinn!" Haldir cried and a string of arrows rained down on the approaching orcs. Haldir and his men turned about then, engaging the enemy full on once more. All of them, warriors and archers included, were driven with an intense need to rid their home of this corruption. When Haldir noticed some orcs attempting to turn and flee out of fear of being taken by surprise, Haldir shouted to his men once more, "Shoot them, Orophin! Do not let them flee!"

In his momentary distraction, Haldir had not noticed the Warg who was fast making its way towards the Marchwarden. Haldir was knocked hard from his feet, a deep gash of fresh claw marks across his shoulder and arm. His dagger had been knocked away from him. _Ai Elbereth, help me,_ Haldir silently prayed as he awaited the attack that just very well may be his undoing. At last he reached his blade and turned, just as the beast lunged for him. Haldir readied himself for the inevitable when the creature suddenly yelped in pain, frozen in the air, mid-strike. Haldir blinked up at the large creatures drooling maw and scampered backwards. Only then did he notice something truly baffling. Underneath the creature, with dagger in hand, the blade of which was run clear to the hilt through the beasts abdomen, holding it aloft, stood no other than the lady Buffy. Haldir could do naught but blink in surprise.

With a loud grunt and several smaller groans, Buffy pushed the creature off her shoulder to let it fall to the ground. She then placed her foot on its neck, and with a sickening sound, withdrew her blade from its gullet. She then attempted brushing away some of the warg blood and slime that coated her shoulders, back, and most of her hair. She made a disgusted sound and spoke angrily in her own language. Haldir gaped up at her, when she turned to him and held out a hand to help him up, which Haldir took.

"Warriors fight, Hal. Not sit," was all she said before pulling him up. The small battle still raged around the both of them. With a reassuring smile, Buffy gave Haldir's shoulder a squeeze then turned and just like that, lost herself in the thick of the fighting.

Haldir could not tell if she had just actually spoken, or if he'd imagined it. He did know for certain, however that he was worried for Buffy's safety, but after what Haldir just witnessed, he was seriously beginning to doubt if there was such a need. Shaking off his musings -which was much easier said than done, when concerning Buffy- Haldir took up his blade again, and despite the now dislocated shoulder and vicious wound, his skills were hardly impeded. He simply fought with one blade now, instead of two.

Haldir was amazed. Not only had Buffy just suspended an over-300 pound creature in the air, by herself, but she also fought like a seasoned warrior. When Haldir had earlier described her movement as fluid motion, he now understood the severe understatement of that description. Buffy's fighting style was unlike anything Haldir had ever seen. Even in the midst of chaos the woman was a being of extraordinary grace. She made the fight look like a dance. A killing dance where Buffy constantly changed partners, dispatching one enemy only to move fluidly onto the next, as if the whole fight had been choreographed.

With Buffy's help, the elves easily drove back the Orc threat until only a few of the enemy remained. There was, however, one warg rider who had refrained from the entire fight. Buffy had noticed it first. As the other orcs fought and died, it had merely stayed back and watched. Now, seeing as the elves were winning, the Warg Rider began to panic. Panicking led to retreating, which in this case was not a good thin for it may bring back more.

Buffy called Haldir's name, trying to raise his attention and he looked up from where he just cut down a particularly nasty goblin. Buffy indicated the lone warg rider with a nod of her head, causing Haldir turn in the rider's direction.

"Orophin!" Haldir called to his brother who had taken up fighting on the ground, despite his orders. "The rider is their leader! It will have information we need!" With a nod, Orophin turned and withdrew his bow.

Haldir took up the fight next to his brother's side, defending him. Orophin took care to aim and after a long moment, he let the arrow fly. Just as the warg leered back, the missile sunk clean through the beast's neck. After a few groans and drunken staggering which caused the rider to fall from its back, the warg dropped dead to the ground. Haldir and his warriors, including Buffy, dispatched the remaining orcs before descending upon the fallen leader. Haldir held the mongrel down by stamping a foot on its chest.

The orc cringed back in terror, and Haldir was once again reminded that orcs had very little physical strength. Their few victories were never won because of skill, strength or bravery, but from sheer mass and numbers. They were all of them pathetic and cowardly. To kill them all was to put them out of their own misery. It would be a great service, really, to wipe them all from the face of Middle Earth.

Buffy tapped Haldir on the shoulder, and then pointed with her borrowed dagger towards the east where Rumil and his elves were still fighting. Haldir nodded his consent and Buffy was once again off to continue the fight.

Haldir leaned over the orc filth. When the Marchwarden spoke, he didn't even try to hide the disgust and vehemence from his voice. He spoke through clenched teeth, "What are you filth doing in my forrest?"

The orc cringed and Haldir pushed his foot hard against its throat, causing it to let out another strangled whimper. "The hand commands, we obey," it managed to choke out.

"What hand?" Haldir demanded, lifting the thing by its vest. "Who sent you?" he spat.

Unabated fear and terror suddenly filled the orcs eyes, but it wasn't due to Haldir. Something greater and more terrifying caused that horror to cloud the orcs features. The thing grabbed for Haldir's dagger and immediately he dropped the orc and stepped back. His elves were ready to strike out at the creature, but were too late. The orc had buried Haldir's dagger up through its own rib cage, then fell over dead.

Haldir groaned and kicked the Orc's body in its side, swearing in Elvish. Just then, Rumil and the rest of his elves approached. The youngest brother immediately noticed Haldir's foul mood and use of obscenities.

Rumil then approached Orophin and whispered, "What has happened, Oro? Why is Haldir so cross? We have victory, should he not be pleased?"

Orophin described to Rumil what had just taken place; about the orcs being sent here by what the leader had only described as "The Hand." Rumil then understood Haldir's anger. They had achieved victory this day, but such news could only mean there may yet be more fighting still to come.

Rumil placed a comforting hand on Haldir's shoulder. "Come, gwador nin. Let us see to your wounds. When your shoulder is set you may vent all your anger on Orophin and me." Rumil smiled. The three brothers often sparred together. Rumil just happened to know Haldir enjoyed it. It was a great way to relieve stress. Haldir turned and let Rumil lead him away from the pit of battle.

Rumil was not only one of their best archers, but a rather skilled healer as well. He had already set up a camp several miles from the battle, where the wounded from the first attack had been seen to. It was there he would lead Haldir and any others requiring medical aid.

Orophin and the remaining fighters, Buffy among them, stayed behind to gather up the bodies of the dead orcs. Together they would take the corpses beyond the border of the Golden Wood and burn them. The act would take them the better part of the day, into the waning hours of the early evening.

When the arduous task was done, Orophin took stock of his men. They were battle weary and tired, but still in high spirits after their victory. Truly the Valar had blessed them this day for despite several injuries, they had emerged victorious with no casualties.

After allowing the remaining elves a respite to wash and change if needs be, Orophin gave them their orders for their new posts. Once the guard had been set, Orophin turned to Buffy who had been extremely patient and understanding while he took care of his men. When Orophin had asked her if she required a place to bathe, her only response was to ask Haldir's name with a bleak expression on her face. She was worried about the Marchwarden, that much was clear. The small camp Rumil had set up for their injured was several miles out and hard to find unless one knew where to look. Orophin would take it upon himself to see Buffy there, for he too found himself undeniably curious about the petite adaneth.

Saying a few farewells, Orophin collected his pack then departed with Buffy in tow. He would not hurry them; therefore it would undoubtedly be dark by the time they reached the camp.

When the elf encampment loomed near with its faint glow of lantern lights acting like a beacon, Orophin immediately noticed the change in Buffy. Her movements were easier, her footsteps lighter, her features brighter. Haldir's wound had been a vicious one and Buffy found herself greatly concerned for his well-being. She couldn't help it. Haldir was the one person in this world she'd had the most contact with. He'd taken care of her, protected her. She felt drawn to him.

It wasn't that lusty, "I-wanna-get-to-know-you" feeling -which was surprising because, let's face it; Haldir was a stone cold fox. However, she did have strong feelings of kinship towards him. Buffy needed to know he was truly alright before she allowed herself to really relax. That had meant abstaining from washing away the blood and battle grime, which became a contributing factor to Buffy's sour mood.

Rumil came out to greet them as they approached. "Welcome, brother, lady Buffy."

"Haldir?" Buffy inquired immediately. So much for pleasantries.

The elf nodded, "Of course, my lady. He is just resting, right this-"

"I am right here, Rumil." A voice spoke up from several meters behind them, sounding slightly shaky. Buffy peered around Rumil to see Haldir standing a few meters behind him. He was shirtless, with his right arm in a sling and a cloth bandage that wrapped around his entire upper chest and shoulder. The wrap prevented his arm from moving, but it also secured the binding for the wound on his back.

"You are positively, _the most_ stubborn, hard-headed, uncooperative elf in all of Arda," Rumil heavily accented each word as he fumed at Haldir. "Simply because we will live forever brother, does not mean we cannot _die_!"

Orophin spoke up then, "What are you saying Rumil?"

Rumil turned to Orophin, clearly annoyed with the situation. "There was some sort of poison on the claws of the beast that struck him. Not more than five minutes after we arrived, Haldir broke into a fever," he paused and turned a reproachful glare on his older brother. " 'Twas nothing a basic herbal remedy could not cure. Still, he could have died. Yet, instead of resting like he was told, our brother insists on acting as if he were invincible!" Rumil was almost yelling by that point. The fear of even just the idea of losing his older brother filling him with a sense of dread he never wanted to experience ever again.

"I was worried about Buffy," was Haldir's only defense as to why he had gotten out of bed.

Buffy sighed in aggravation, then stepped next to Haldir. "Buffy is fine, you stupid elf," was all she said as she rolled her eyes and poked him gently in the chest.

All three elves looked at her in shock. Haldir gazed intently at her before speaking in a reverent tone, "Buffy? You understand what we are saying?"

Buffy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes again, "Some. You elves use many words for not many things."

Haldir exchanged glances with his brothers. It was unbelievable. In less than two days Buffy had picked up the basics of the common tongue. It had taken Haldir and his brothers several decades to master Westron, mainly because it was not the focused language of his people. If Buffy kept this pace she might be able to hold whole conversations in less than a month. Yet _another_ characteristic about the small woman that plagued Haldir's thoughts.

After a long moment, Buffy rolled her eyes again and moved Haldir's good arm over her shoulders. "Warriors need rest too, Hal," were her only words as she led Haldir back to his cot. Orophin and Rumil followed behind them.

Ever so gently, Buffy lowered Haldir to an empty cot, but before she could walk away, Haldir placed his free hand on her arm, then said, "Two days ago you did not understand one word of our speech. How is it you understand us, now?"

Buffy pressed her lips together and squinched up her nose, thinking. After a long moment, Buffy shrugged her shoulders, looking sheepish, before she answered his question as best she could, "I listened?"

_To Be Continued in the next chapter... **No Peroxide Blues**_

_(Once again, the next chapter title is still pending!  
So there it is folks. The end of my first ever two part chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! It was a fun one!  
Plus, many thanks to my awesome new beta, she knows who she is! Because of her, my Muse has decided to grace me once again, and I think I will be writing for this story a lot more! So hopefully that means another chapter up real soon!  
Thanks so much for all your reviews and feedback, I love hearing from you! **But remember** if you like The First Maiar so far, please don't be afraid to "recommend" it to all your friends! Thanks!  
Cheers! _=^.^= _)_

_  
**||Elvish Translations||**_

_gwador nin ~ "My brother" (I think? Not 100% positive, though! Don't quote me on it!)  
Mae govannen ~ "Well met"  
tithen adaneth ~ "little woman"  
Faeg i-varv... dîn na lanc a nu ranc. ~ "Their armour is weak at the neck... and under the arms."  
Daro! ~ "Hold!"  
Leithio i philinn! ~ "Fire the arrows!"_


	7. Cookie Dough, Fudge, Mint Chip

**_(LONG A/N: It has been brought to my attention that some of you may find this chapter either confusing, or inconsistent with my story line, or both. I assure you, however, that if you paid attention to Manwe's closing speech in chapter two, this will make sense. Also if you actually take the time to read this chapter and understand, there is an OBVIOUS allusion in Angel's observations that the Buffy he's speaking of in this chapter just might be different from the Buffy that jumped into the portal and is now in Middle Earth._**

**_In a brief form of explanation, it was really only ever the Soul that Manwe lent to the PTB. To help preserve its essence and power until Manwe could find the right time and ability to bring it back. If not for this, the Buffy on Earth would have still existed, she would have just been a normal every day, run of the mill slayer. Never questioning her worth or existence. Hence, when Manwe returned the soul home, there was still a Buffy that existed in that world, just not the same as the soul he returned to Middle Earth. It's a little complicated to explain._**

**_I realize that up until this point my focus has been Buffy and her newfound place in Middle Earth, therefore this chapter might seem a little out of place. But I assure you I have not diverted from my original story line in any way, and this chapter will in fact play a pretty major part in plot line to come._**

**_I also realize, from the readers' Point of View, who have no idea what's going on in my head, that this entire chapter may seem oddly placed... I've even been told that it feels like a completely different story... All I can say in explanation without giving everything away, is that like most everything in Buffy's life, they don't always tend to work out perfectly, if at all, and there will come a time that she questions and doubts her destiny and purpose, yet again... A friendly and familiar face just might end up being the thing she needs to help set her back on her path..._**

**_I don't mean to be cryptic and confusing, but that's all I can say for now._**

**_As far as the first couple parts in Italics, I was trying to get that old TV series feel ya know? Where it opens with Wesley or Giles' voice saying "Previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or "Previously on Angel" and then goes into a few flashes from some important parts of prior episodes... Then the real show begins... Well, that's kinda what I was aiming for with this... Sorry if it seems odd, but it's where my muse took me... *shrug*_**

**_I hope this explains things in some ways and enables my lovely readers a better chance at understanding and enjoying this part of the story... Believe it or not, I am not the only Author who has done something like this in their stories. I've read many books where the author will focus on one particular character line for a few chapters, then suddenly jump to a new character's point of view and the struggles they're going through that sometimes have nothing to do with the main character, but somehow the two converge down the line. I've read it happen many times._**

**_But enough about that... Thanks so much for sticking with me! Now on with the show...)_**

**_Disclaimer_****_:_**_ I do not own or lay claims to anything related to Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer or J.R.R. Tolkien's world of Middle Earth. I write this specifically to satisfy my own creativity and the Muse that can't seem to leave me alone. It is written solely to entertain and amuse, and maybe possibly to inspire. No profit is being made. Thank you!_

**Cookie Dough, Fudge, Mint Chip**

**_::Previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer::_**

_"This isn't like Dawn trying to bring Mrs. Summers back, or anything we've dealt with before." Willow tried appealing to a room of friends that included Xander, Tara and Anya. "Buffy didn't die a natural death. She was killed by mystical energy."_

_"Which means we do have a shot," Tara supplied in support for Willow's plan._

_"It means more than that!" Willow turned to Xander, who had thus far been the hardest to convince. "It means we don't know... _where_ she really is."_

_"We saw her body, Will," Xander said with a tone of finality. "We buried it."_

_"Her body, yeah." Willow continued in defense of her decision. "But her soul... her essence... I mean, that could be somewhere else." That gave Xander pause. Willow continued, "She could be trapped in-in some sort of hell dimension like Angel was." Willow's eyes began to water and her voice grew raw with emotion. "Suffering eternal torment just because she saved us! I'm not gonna let... I'm not gonna _leave_ her there." She turned an intense gaze on Xander. "It's Buffy!"_

_Xander__ gazed at his best friend for a long time, mulling everything over in his head. He still didn't feel right about what they had planned to do. It had felt right burying Buffy. She'd sacrificed so much, given up so much of herself to save them. Putting her to rest had seemed like the most proper and best thing to do. But Willow had a point... If Buffy's soul was trapped in some Hell dimension just because she saved them, he would never be able to live with himself._

_With a strong resolve of his own, he placed a hand on Willow's shoulder and said, "What time do we meet?"_

_

* * *

_

_The sounds of motorcycle engines and harsh voices echoed from every direction as Xander hid with Willow behind a thick of bushes. Willow's head was in his lap and he brushed her cheek trying to stir her awake. "Willow! Willow, are you okay?" When the motorcycle riding demons had destroyed the Urn of Osiris, Xander had feared all the worst for his friend who'd been in the throes of the ritual._

_Willow looked up at him and asked, weakly, "Did it work?"_

_Xander's__ face fell, his eyes shrouded over in sadness as he shook his head, "I'm sorry."_

_

* * *

_

_Six feet beneath the ground, a black-clothed, decaying corpse of a young girl rested peaceful and undisturbed in her coffin until an eerie orange mist began to swirl around her head; which was just a skull with much of the skin rotting off, the hair decayed. _

_As the mist moved around the body, suddenly eyeballs reappeared, skin and hair repaired themselves, and before long a live Buffy was reborn, wide-eyed and gasping. Finding herself stuck inside a coffin, she looked around; panicking. Extreme fear was etched into her every feature as she began to claw her way out._

_

* * *

_

_"Please? I'm your sister. Dawn. We were up here... together, and then... you went away. And you don't wanna do that again. I don't know how you're back, but you are, and please, just stay still." The tower creaked and jolted making Dawn fight for balance. "Or-or move. But-but towards me. Because the tower was built by crazy people and I don't think it's holding up very well."_

_When Buffy continued to stare down into nothing, Dawn became desperate. "Talk to me. Say something!" Dawn demanded. The tower creaked so loudly that she almost missed Buffy's first uttered words._

"Is... Is this hell?"

* * *

_"It's like something out of Fitzgerald." Angel looked at Fred inquisitively, so she went on to explain her meaning. "The man who can have everything but love." She paused a moment, "Well, maybe in some ways you're better off, because love is... - Well, in a way it's everything. - But it's also heartache and disappointment. - And those are good things to avoid."_

_Angel smiled briefly at the girl before they both turned their attention away when Cordelia came rushing out to the courtyard. The brunette Seer was anxious and even a bit breathless. "Angel! Willow's on the phone..." Cordy paused to take a breath, then continued excitedly, "She's alive! Buffy's alive!" With no further explanation forthcoming, Cordy turned immediately and raced back inside._

_Angel shared a gaze with Fred for a brief moment before he jumped up and ran inside the hotel after Cordy._

_Finding herself alone in the courtyard of the Hyperion and more than a little confused, Fred turned away from the door with a furrow to her brow and whispered to herself, "Buffy?"_

_

* * *

_

_Giles and Dawn were sitting in the room that thanks to a demon attack earlier, was in total shambles. Upon seeing Buffy return from the kitchen with a determined set to her stride, he asked in concern, "Buffy, what is it?"_

_She turned back to face them, and paused for a moment before speaking, "Angel."_

_Giles' brow furrowed, "Is he in trouble?"_

_Buffy shook her head as she reached for her jacket, "He knows that I'm..." She let the sentence trail off. Dawn looked at her in concern. "He, he needs to see me," Buffy continued. "I have to see him."_

_"Yes, of course," Giles responded. "You'll leave for L.A. tomorrow."_

_Buffy shook her head, "Not L.A. And not here. Somewhere in the middle." She worried her bottom lip. "There's a, a place..."_

* * *

**_::And now...::_**

Wes was looking past the naked blade of a sword in front of him to the person holding it. "You wouldn't dare!" He stated, looking incredulously at Cordelia. "You were just going to toss in a Prothgarian broadsword with a third-century ceremonial Sancteus dagger?"

Cordy turned the sword in her hands to give it a second look. "Hmm. Let's see. Long, metal, pointy." A brief pause before she looked back at Wesley. "Yup."

"Cordy! The purpose of an inventory-" Wesley began before he was interrupted by Gunn.

"Yes, give us that _purpose of an inventory speech - again_." He mimicked Wesley's accent.

Wesley crossed his arms and scowled slightly, "This wasn't my idea."

"No," Cordelia responded. "Angel keeps complaining that the weapons cabinet is all different. But Wesley, who's the boss around here? You - or the guy with the pancreas dagger?"

"What time is it?" Fred chimed in seemingly out of nowhere.

Wesley held up his wrist to Cordelia, who read the time on his watch. "Six twenty four." She responded. "And for those of you who are playing the home game: that's exactly three minutes from the last time you asked."

Fred fumbled around with a strange contraption that looked like a hybrid between a suitcase, a crossbow and a sewing machine. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just - I have this theory that the more you are aware of time the more slowly it moves, which _could_ make light speed travel possible, but only if you were to concentrate really..."

"He'll be back when he's back," Cordy interrupted her mind-rant.

"So - now that she's alive again, are they gonna get back together? Angel and that girl with the goofy name?"

"Well _Fred_, that's a difficult question." Gunn responded, emphasizing the brunette's own unusual name. "I think it's fair to say... no. Not a chance. Never. No way. Not in a million years. And also 'nuh-uh.'"

"But you said he loved her. And of course she's gonna love him back, because he's so strong and handsome and he really listens when you talk. I-I mean, if you go for that sort of thing, why wouldn't it work?"

"Let me break it down for you, Fred." Cordy stepped away from the reception counter and took on a slightly over-exaggerated act, trying to pretend to be Buffy. "Oh - Angel! I know that I'm a Slayer and you a vampire - and it would be _impossible_ for us to _be_ together - _but!_"

Gunn laughed as Wesley stood up, "But!" Cordy turned to look at him where he pulled his glasses off and laid them to the side. "My gypsy curse sometimes prevents me from seeing the truth," Wes continued. "Oh, Buffy!"

"Yes, Angel?"

"Oh, I love you so much I almost forgot to _brood_!"

Fred watched wide-eyed while Gunn just stood there laughing.

"And just because I sent you to hell that one time doesn't mean that we can't just be friends." Wes grabbed a hold of Cordy's wrist and Cordy gasped, "Oh!"

"Or possibly more," Wesley implied.

Cordelia's acting only became more exaggerated as she pretended to swoon "Gasp! No! We mustn't."

Wes pulled Cordy close. "Kiss me," he demanded.

"Bite me!" Cordy retorted. Wes bent Cordy back over his arm and pretended to sink his fangs into her neck.

Suddenly, Angel's voice cut into their act, "How about you both bite me."

Fred jumped up, smiling, "You're back!"

Seeing Angel watching them, Cordy and Wes quickly scurried apart.

"How'd it go?" Gunn was the first to ask.

"I think those two pretty much summed it up," Angel responded a bit bitterly. "To be honest... I _really_ don't wanna talk about it."

Cordy tugged her mini skirt back in place. "But... ah, Angel - we're your friends." She flashed him a big toothy smile. "And, and it-it's not healthy to repress stuff like _this_. You-you need to share your - pain, express those feelings of grief and longing or... The curiosity is gonna kill me!" She finished on a selfish note.

"Oh, no," Angel said quietly. "Wouldn't want that."

"Personally, I don't care at all what happened," Fred supplied.

"Shut up, Fred," Cordelia sniped in passing.

"Actually, you know what I need right now?" Angel asked to no one in particular. "Ice cream," he finished, directing his attention to Fred. "You wanna get some ice cream?" He asked.

Fred 's face blossomed with a big toothy grin, "I like Ice cream!" Fred walked over to Angel who gave her a small smile. The two friends then turned to leave the hotel together.

"Now we'll never, ever know," Cordy practically whined.

Angel's voice sing-songed back to her in response, "That's right."

* * *

"So what did you mean?" Fred asked between licks of her ice cream in a waffle cone.

"About what?" Angel asked, pre-occupied with something else. He appeared as if he were searching for something in the sewer they were now walking down.

"Back at the ice cream place, you said, 'It didn't feel right' that 'she felt different,' then I asked 'different how?' and then the big ugly demon jumped out and started attacking us... So... what did you mean? Is it a good different or bad different?"

Angel hadn't meant to go into details about his trip to see Buffy, but from the first moment he saw her, to saying his goodbyes, something had seemed completely off about the whole thing. He had hoped it was all just in his head, but deep down he couldn't help but question. He needed to talk to someone about it, to get an outside perspective and Fred seemed like the safest bet. She didn't know Buffy nor much of their history. It was almost like she was an impartial third party bystander so she could provide an impartial point of view. Plus she was really smart, surely she'd have a decent take on the situation. Even though, he still felt bad for talking about it with her, especially with just recent events...

With a light shrug and a frown Angel stopped and turned to Fred to respond, "It's not bad... At least I don't think it is. I mean, she's still Buffy." _I think_... He added in his head as an afterthought, then continued out loud,_ "_It's just..." He had almost a pained expression on his face trying to put his feelings and thoughts into words.

"It's just what?" Fred asked after another lick. From the short time she'd known him, she'd never believe she'd see Angel at a loss for words.

After a moment he sighed heavily, "I just don't know how to describe it. From the first time I met Buffy, she always had this feel to me." Fred raised her eyebrow and gave him a weird look, but she didn't say anything. "Not like_ that_." He sighed again. "Even before she came to Sunnydale, when she was still pretending to be Miss Popularity and ignore her destiny, she just always seemed to have this sort of hum and essence about her... It was like she was nothing but living energy bundled up into a small, blonde package. I don't even think she was aware of it. In fact I can bet she wasn't." He paused a moment where he looked off at nothing. "It was almost surreal. Like she couldn't be of this world."

"Well, from that description alone it sounds like she's a girl that would be fairly easy to lose your soul to... I mean in the good way, of course. Warm fuzzies and all... Just - incidentally in your case that can be a bad way too." Fred shrugged and took a few more licks of her ice cream.

Angel sighed heavily, "Fred, you have no idea. She just seemed to inspire goodness and loyalty from almost everyone she met. I mean before meeting Buffy, Cordelia used to be a rich, stuck-up bitch." His eyes widened after he realized what he'd just said and he turned quickly to Fred. "Please, don't tell her I said that. That's not who she is anymore." He added as a side note.

"What's said in the sewer stays in the sewer." Fred grinned as she held up her right hand as if taking an oath.

"It's just, with Buffy, there was always so much light there. Even in the darkest times. There was so much warmth, and love... Strength and power. God she was probably one of the strongest slayer's I've ever known. Definitely one of the strongest women I've ever met."

" 'Was?' Angel, you're talkin' like she's still dead. Shouldn't ya be all happy and butterflies now that she's back?" Fred paused. "What exactly happened?"

Angel didn't answer her question right away, he was too lost in his own inner thoughts. Like Fred said though, he should be happy that Buffy was back. He did still love her more than anything after all. So why did he feel so off about it?

Even when Buffy confessed to him the pain of coming back to life, he still was having a hard time understanding what could have happened in the process to change her so much. He'd gone to hell and back, and no drastic changes had happened to him. Everything he used to feel from her seemed to be gone. The light, the energy, the power. It was almost as if her soul was transformed... As if someone flipped off the switch... Everything was just gone, like that. She still seemed to be Buffy. Same speech, same eyes, same smell, same taste... Yes, he will admit that a small, what Buffy would call "smooch fest" did take place, but nothing too heavy.

He did still love her, it just seemed actually being with her, so much had changed. The old feelings she used to rise in him by just her presence alone seemed to be lessened greatly. What exactly changed in her, and what was the cause? Was it Willow's spell? Messing with Magicks the likes of which she used could have carried dire consequences, but that just didn't seem like the right answer.

Was it waking up in her own coffin? Angel remembered firsthand how terrifying that could be... But could that be why? Or could it have just been dying in general that made her old essence leave? It was a possibility... He may never truly know. The questions, however, might just plague him until his dying day. A daunting prospect that, considering he was immortal. One thing was for sure; if he ever spoke to the Powers that Be face to face, it just might be one of the first things he asks them.

"Angel?" Fred inquired after he'd been silent for a while. Her ice cream at this point was only a few bites from being gone. So lost in his inner thoughts was he that Angel hadn't even realized they'd started moving again. "Are you alright?" Fred asked. "You look a little pale? Well, ya always look kinda pale, but right now you look-" A dull roaring sound echoed through the sewer tunnel making Fred jump. "That wasn't me."

"Oh, no, no, no. We must be near the Durslar's lair," Angel speculated. He then turned to Fred, "Why don't you head back on to the hotel. I can take it from here."

"But shouldn't we call Wesley first and maybe, you know, the army?" Fred asked.

"Nah. Durslar beasts are pretty Faulknerian. Lotta sound. No fury," he assured her. "Think you can find your way back okay?"

"I think so. 128 meters back, eastward fork, 207 meters to the southward fork, hang a right, 12 meters in," she said off-handily, then gave Angel a sheepish look. "I'm just being a big nerd again, aren't I?" At Angel's nod she said, "I'm gonna go now." She then turned and headed down the tunnel as Angel kept walking toward the Durslar's lair.

About halfway down the tunnel Fred turned back around and asked, "A-are you sure you're gonna be okay? Because I can stay with you. I really don't mind."

"I'll be fine," Angel insisted.

"You don't need me. Okay. Bye!" Fred disappeared around the corner then stuck her head back around the corner. "Are you sure?"

With a chuckle in his voice Angel shouted back, "I'm fine!" At least this would be something to distract him from his current worries.

"Okay. Bye then!" Fred responded too cheerily for the situation they were in. With a final wave she turned and left, for good this time. Angel watched her go with a grin on his face... Because of this, however, he failed to notice the large form of a Durslar demon sneaking up behind him.

_To be continued in the next chapter..._

_(**A/N**: FINALLY another chapter! Sorry that took so long! Just wanted to thank you for reading and to let everyone know that some of the episode dialogue I found on . Most of it is O.C. however! Thanks again! Much Love!  
Cheers _=^.^=_)_


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